


Living Meets Dead

by BecauseBraime



Series: Two Sides of a Coin [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azor Ahai, BAMF Brienne of Tarth, Dragon Riders, F/M, Pregnancy, The Long Night, Wights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseBraime/pseuds/BecauseBraime
Summary: Part 2 - Follow East Meets West.Jon had warned Westeros about the threat to the north, but no one was truly prepared for what they faced. Now Jaime and Brienne try to recover from the traumas of the Long Night as they make their way back to Tarth. They reflect on memories of the battle with the dead and how it impacts their lives now.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Selwyn Tarth, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Two Sides of a Coin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711933
Comments: 77
Kudos: 184





	1. The Dead

Hearing Jon speak about it was one thing but seeing it in the flesh was another. The dead ran at them in various states of decay. Chaotic and gnashing, the dead seemed to lack strategy and aim. An unknown force drove them forward, and the living were merely in the way. The only thing Jaime knew for certain was that the dead seemed to have more energy than the living.

A moon after their wedding, the missive came to Tarth that the dead had breached the wall. Bran’s words were cryptic, but certain. There was no stopping their march south any longer. All kingdoms answered the call and sent soldiers north to meet the dead.

From Tarth, the journey took one moon’s turn by the time the ships were loaded with weapons, supplies, and the men. The entirety of the island’s defense was brought north in a bid to stop death from spreading like wildfire.

Now standing on the frontlines as death tested their will to live, Jaime wondered if this was a foe you could truly defeat. They had been fighting in the snowy fields just northeast of Winterfell for a moon’s turn. Only the living slept, and they took shifts to keep fresh.

There was no rest in death it seemed. Looking to his right, Jaime saw the steady presence of Selwyn, Bronn, and Ser Duncan. Selwyn was always the closest to Jaime’s right side. He refused to leave Jaime’s weak side unguarded and went to extreme lengths to stay close.

As much as Jaime hated to see Selwyn on the front lines and putting himself in harm’s way, it was something he could depend on in the darkest hours. The moments were Jaime wanted to give up and lay down from exhaustion, Selwyn was there.

The man had truly become his father in every sense of the word. Jaime never realized how much he was missing from his life until he experienced the love of a father. With Selwyn, it was always the little things that warmed Jaime the most.

The way Selwyn teasingly ruffled Jaime’s hair when something was particularly amusing to the older lord. The way Selwyn’s chest swelled with pride when he introduced Jaime to new acquaintances. The way Selwyn pulled him into a relieved hug after their shift on the battlefield ended. The way Selwyn put a steadying hand on Jaime’s shoulder when he could sense Jaime’s anxiety was overtaking him.

They had lost Ser Endrew a fortnight into the war with the Night King. He had taken a wight’s axe to the face while pushing one of his men out of the way. It was the first casualty that hit Jaime like a blow to the gut, but far from the last time he would mourn the loss of a comrade.

Standing amid battle now, Jaime cut through wights like they were practice dummies in the training yard. Their numbers were infinitely more than the living, but they lacked skill and precision. Their blows were wild; often missing the mark by an arm’s length.

The one thing Jaime struggled to adjust to was their smell. He supposed the varying states of decay were to blame. The didn’t bleed as the living did, but a thick sludge seemed to drip from the gashes that his sword inflicted on them.

They had learned from Jon that the wights were susceptible to fire, dragonglass, and valyrian steel. Fortunately for the living, Jon took seriously the threat of the dead before the rest of Westeros did. He had immediately set to work mining dragonglass from Dragonstone when he visited the island with Tyrion to secure the remaining dragons.

Jon had the mined dragonglass shipped north in time to be forged into various weapons for the living. Most of the men from Tarth elected to take dragonglass arrows and blades into battle. Many of the mainlanders took dragonglass swords and battleaxes.

Standing to his right, Selwyn wielded a dragonglass sword better than most men half his age. Jaime surmised the older lord had been a formidable fighter in his youth; likely winning his fair share of tourneys in the Stormlands.

What he was less surprised by was the tenacity with which Selwyn fought. His style was similar to Brienne. Brute strength and a stubborn refusal to lose. As they slashed and hacked their way for a moon turn straight, it was almost easy to forget how abnormal the situation was.

You opponents on the battlefield are meant to fear for their lives. They are meant to gush blood when you strike them and void their bowels when you kill them. They are meant to have strategy. The dead had none of it.

It was not uncommon to witness one wight fling itself at an opponent; running straight into a sword while doing so. Unfortunately for the living, the dead’s sheer numbers meant another wight was behind it, immediately ready to pounce on the living target. If you didn’t retract your blade fast enough, you were soon to join the Night King’s ranks.

It was this very behavior that was Jaime’s undoing. It was the end of a long shift on the battlefield. The wave of dead men took longer to beat back than usual. Jaime took a step forward and felled a wight, only to feel an immediate presence at his left.

Spinning around to kill the approaching threat, Jaime quickly severed the wight’s head, but the follow through of his swing was too wide. His left side was wide open and another wight came charging in. What happened next was a blur which Jaime remembers very little of, but he only remembered being pushed hard to the ground from something or someone at his right side. He later learned that someone was his father, Selwyn Tarth.

When Jaime looked up and realized what had happened, he saw the wight’s spear lodged firmly in Selwyn’s right side. Jaime’s world stopped.

All sounds of battle were replaced by a ringing in Jaime’s ears. All movement around him seemed to fall into slow motion. An intense rage came over Jaime as Selwyn fell to the ground beside him; blood pouring from the older lord’s mouth.

In an animalistic rage, Jaime swung wildly at the wight and cut straight through its body. As more wights came at Jaime, he stood in defensive posturing over Selwyn and lashed out at anything coming within an arm’s length of him.

Seeing what happened, the men from Tarth screamed to tall back into a protective circle around their Evenstar. Jaime dropped to his knees and began screaming at Selwyn.

“Please! Selwyn, open your eyes! Please, don’t leave me!” Jaime hardly realized he was crying until he saw tears fall from his face and onto the older lord’s chin and chest. Selwyn spluttered blood as the spear stuck out from his side.

His eyes fluttered open and met Jaime’s. He reached his giant hand to Jaime’s cheek and cupped it. “Son. Protect her.”

“No, no! You’re not dying. Selwyn, please! Don’t leave me. Please.” The battle around them lessened as the wave of dead men stopped coming. It wasn’t the end of the war, only the end of the battle. Their watch had ended.

* * *

4 moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne married. 3 moons since Selwyn fell.

“Don’t leave me! Please!” A firm hand shook Jaime awake. He bolted upright in bed in a sweat, gasping for air. The steady rocking of the ship taking them home to Tarth and the moonlight coming in through the porthole window was the first thing Jaime noticed.

He reached his arms out for purchase and two arms encircled him. “I’m here, son. It’s alright. I’ve not left you.” Selwyn’s bulky frame pulled Jaime into him. Closing his eyes and feeling relief wash over him, Jaime worked to steady his breathing.

“Breathe son. Just breathe. It’s over.” Selwyn’s left leg was on the edge of Jaime’s bed as his right foot planed on the ship floor. He was still a mountain of a man considering how sick with fever he had been just a moon prior. After falling in battle a moon’s turn into the war, Selwyn clung to life for a fortnight before opening his eyes.

Samwell Tarly had saved Selwyn’s life. A debt Jaime could never repay. Jaime’s mind wandered back to the earliest days after Selwyn fell in battle. Jaime had been inconsolable as the men from Tarth carried their Evenstar back to the Winterfell as quickly as possible. Jaime took turns swapping out spots with the men as they sprinted back carrying their lord and guiding star.

The run to Winterfell felt like hours, but with no daylight to mark the passage of time, no one truly knew. Only Sam seemed to have developed a system for tracking the days, but Jaime couldn’t be bothered. His life operated in shifts.

When they arrived at the gates, Sam directed the men to his makeshift tent for those with the gravest injuries. It took half a dozen men to restrain Jaime and keep him from Selwyn’s side. Sam insisted he needed the space clear of anyone not part of his trained team.

Duncan and Bronn tried to calm Jaime as he crumpled to the snowy courtyard of Winterfell. It wasn’t until Jaime felt the steady hands of Sansa Stark that he collected himself. She knelt before him and placed her hands on his shoulders. While they lacked the weight of Selwyn’s hands, they had the same grounding effect.

“Just breathe Ser Jaime. You need to breathe. Look at me. Breathe.”

When it wasn’t Jaime’s shift on the battlefield, he was at Selwyn’s bedside. He slept in a chair pulled close to Selwyn’s bedside and rested his head against the older man’s shoulder. If he wasn’t there, Brienne was. Sometimes they both sat vigil and it was in those moments that Jaime realized the enormity of it all.

His family; him, Brienne, and Selwyn. They were what mattered to him. If he felt this way about Selwyn’s near-death experience, Jaime shuddered to think what would happen if Brienne fell in battle. Jaime didn’t know that he would be long for this world if he watched her fall before him.

Jaime remembered the day Selwyn woke up. Selwyn’s blue eyes filled with confusion and pain. It wasn’t until his eyes met Jaime’s that they flashed with something else. Relief. “Son.” A weak hand moved to reach for Jaime, and he grabbed it quickly.

“I’m here! Thank the Gods! You’re alive.” Jaime kept a hold of Selwyn’s hand and looked around frantically for Sam or one of his makeshift healers before turning back to Selwyn. “Do you need water? Milk of the poppy?”

“Brienne.” It was all Selwyn could say before talking became too much. When Jaime shared that Brienne was alive, but out on the field, Selwyn could only nod.

With the memories playing out in his mind as Jaime’s breathing returned to normal, he looked to his right as Selwyn loosened his embrace. Brienne was out of bed again. Looking to his left, Jaime saw Selwyn’s empty bed and the two other occupied beds of Duncan and Tyrion.

Tyrion had asked to come back to Tarth. Like everyone who survived the Long Night, Tyrion was too haunted to be without family. Jon had temporarily dismissed all council members for two moon’s turn to recover with their kin. Jon himself stayed at Winterfell to help rebuild and recover from his own wounds; both mental and physical.

Most of the soldiers had nightmares. In the initial days of battle, no one could find sleep as the screams of comrades kept them awake. By the end of the war, all soldiers could sleep though anything save their own nightmares.

Selwyn it seemed always heard Jaime and Brienne in the middle of the night just as a mother can hear her babe’s cries from a building away. “I’m sorry I woke you up. You need your rest.”

Selwyn huffed a laugh at Jaime’s words. “Well stop killing me off in your dreams. I haven’t left you, son. I have a fancy scar to show my grandbabes someday. Not as exciting as Brienne’s fight with a bear, but still a lovely bedtime story.”

Jaime chuckled at the words as Selwyn broke the embrace and Jaime slumped back against the pillow. “Do you want the prayer?”

With a deep breath, Jaime nodded his head and looked out the window. Selwyn repeated the words that had strangely become the sole comfort in the darkness. The ancient prayer of Tarth had been recited daily during the war. It started as it always did.

The contingent from Tarth would line up before each shift. With eternal night blanketing Westeros, they looked to the night sky and found their star. Selwyn lead the prayer with the rows of soldiers whispered along.

Within a fortnight, soldiers from other kingdoms began joining them. It started as a curiosity to most, but soon grew to become a habit for every new shift going out to battle.

When Selwyn fell, Brienne lead the prayers for her shift. Jaime lead for shifts where Brienne wasn’t present. If neither was there, the most senior commander from Tarth led the prayer. It felt wrong. It wasn’t Selwyn.

Selwyn didn’t fight again after his injury, but every shift he shuffled to the front of the lines and led the prayer. Jaime felt whole again.

As Selwyn concluded the prayer on the boat, Jaime found sleep again. The nightmares didn’t come for him again that night, but when he woke up, he noticed that Brienne had abandoned her bed and crawled into his. Jaime smiled against her neck and pulled her close. _We’re alive. We still have time_.


	2. The Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne rides a dragon and find she can't shake Viserion once the bond is established. Jaime is less than thrilled about that.

“No, this is madness! Brienne you can’t climb on that _thing_!” Jaime was incredulous and his words a desperate plea. He should have known better than to tell his wife, or as Bronn would say Brienne Lannister of fucking Tarth, what she could or could not do.

“Did you hear what Jon and Bran said? If I don’t try and no one rides it, the Night King will take it. They can’t sense ground threats as we can.”

Stomping forward through the yards, Brienne approached Jon and the team of smiths working to outfit the newly designed harnesses to the dragons. Bran had looked to his visions and observed the use of saddles by previous dragon riders.

The saddles gave added security to riders and allowed them to wield weapons for necessary confrontation in air. With giants in the Night King’s army, Jon saw the potential to encounter the threat during low flight scenarios.

Jon’s dragon sat still through the smiths’ efforts, but the dragon Jon requested Brienne ride was far less cooperative. Jon tried to calm the beast, but it snarled and shook its body away; casting warning screeches at the men who neared it.

Jaime felt his stomach drop as Brienne walked resolutely ahead. “Brienne! Please! Look at that beast. It doesn’t want anyone near it.”

“It doesn’t trust because it hasn’t bonded.” Bran’s eerie voice cut through the tension as they neared the dragon. The crippled boy was not far from Jon and a constant reminder to Jaime of how far removed from redemption he truly was.

Bran turned his eyes to Brienne and appraised her; a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “It will only be calmed by its rider. Brienne is the only other Targaryen I can see. I’ve looked through the origins of others among us and found no dragon blood.”

Jaime felt his hand ball into a fist. He wanted to hit something. A tree, the ground, the fucking dragon. Lunging for Brienne’s wrist, Jaime grabbed hold and begged her. “Please. Don’t do this. There has to be another way! Let me approach first and if it kills me in a fit of rage, you know not to try.”

“The things we do for love.” At Bran’s words, Jaime felt himself freeze. Glancing to the young man, Jaime observed a slight smile tug at Bran’s lips. Jaime could do little more than gawk at the boy he crippled; regret writ across his face.

Before Jaime could break his gaze from Bran, Brienne was at the dragon. Jaime snapped his head to her and went to run towards her, but the dragon’s head swiveled aggressively towards him; nearly knocking down Brienne in the process.

 _Fuck! Gods don’t let that thing hurt her._ With a warning snarl, the dragon stared at Jaime. Brienne reached a tentative hand towards the dragon and touched his snout. From behind Jaime, Selwyn could be heard running through the field.

“Damnit girl what are you doing!?” As Selwyn reached Jaime, they exchanged a panicked look. Brienne looked back at them with determination in her eyes. “Well he hasn’t eaten me yet.”

“That is not comforting Brienne! Just get away from it.” Jaime’s tone was imploring, but she ignored him. With a look to Jon, she ran a hand further along its neck and the smiths were signaled to try and bring the saddle over again.

Slowly, the men dragged the contraption towards Viserion. Brienne continued to keep her hand on the dragon’s body; its massive eyes fixed on her. Something about the dark expression unsettled Jaime. He stepped forward to call to Brienne, but the dragon surged at him with bared teeth and a vicious snarl.

Selwyn grabbed Jaime and pulled him back. “Easy, son. Unless she moves back to us, I don’t think we’re getting any closer to her.”

Trying a different approach, Selwyn spoke calmly to Brienne. “Child, you know I’ve always supported your stubborn independence, but do you remember those rocks? The ones you insisted would be fine to climb on and then you nearly killed yourself in the fall? You were quite lucky it was high tide. There is no ocean to catch you from this fall, Brienne.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and looked back to him. “I also wasn’t strapped into a saddle on the rocks nor was I an adult. Are you truly going to complain about an incident from when I was nine?”

Selwyn muttered under his breath. “Infuriating, obstinate child.” Taking a deep breath, Selwyn gritted his teeth while keeping his arm firmly placed on Jaime’s.

“Your husband doesn’t strike me as a widower who would mourn in the same unsavory ways as me, so unless you want him following your path to the stranger, I recommend moving away from that thing.”

Jaime huffed a laugh. With a final look back at them, the set of Brienne’s features and stubborn look in her eyes told Jaime that she was going to move, but not in the direction they wanted.

As the smiths finished securing the harness, Brienne climbed up and onto the beast. Jaime felt his breathing stop as he watched her. From the ground, Jon instructed her where to put her feet within the harness and how to secure the safety tether.

Jaime hardly realized he was ranting out loud until he heard Selwyn agree. “I know. She has never listened.”

Brienne leaned down to the great beast and commanded the dragon. “Sōvegon!” Then she was off. Within a heartbeat, Jon had mounted his dragon and took off after her.

Jaime paced wildly in the field awaiting her return. Despite his effort, Selwyn couldn’t calm his nerves and Bran fucking Stark did little to ease his worry. The boy and self-proclaimed Three Eyed Raven passed the time recounting all the most gruesome deaths by dragon riding he could tell from Westeros’ history.

When eventually Brienne returned, Jaime felt he could breathe again. As she dismounted and walked towards them, Jaime pulled her close and begged her not to do that again.

Brienne only chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe don’t come out to the field when its my shift in battle.”

Jon had split dragon riding missions into 4 shifts per day. They would alternate attacking the Night King’s army and burning all the dead bodies from battle so that Night King couldn’t raise then. Brienne for her part agreed without question which only made Jaime’s stomach drop.

He had hoped to be near her in battle to protect her. When they made their way into the hall for dinner that night, he expressed all his concerns which Selwyn eagerly agreed with.

“If you fly off alone somewhere, how will we know if you get into trouble and need help? What if the dragon is wounded and you must walk back on foot!? What if you fall? What if you get lost?” What if what if what if…

Brienne was hearing none of it. By the end of the meal, Selwyn had given up arguing with Brienne, but Jaime was desperate. That night in their assigned room, Jaime pulled her close and begged on final time. “I can’t lose you Brienne. I won’t survive this war without you.”

With a hand to his cheek, Brienne could do little more than lean in and kiss him. “I’ll be no more or less safe than you. I can’t lose you either, so perhaps we both simply commit to trying our best not to die.”

And that was the end of it. A wordless disagreement as she and Jon set off the next day to find and track the Night King’s army.

* * *

5 moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne married. 3 moons since the day Brienne first rode the dragon.

They had just arrived at Tarth the day prior. The journey by ship had been long, but an excited energy filled the surviving contingent from Tarth. While they returned with only one-third the men they left with, their kingdom had fared better than most.

The Stormlands lost about half their forces. Given the high volume of precision archers from the Stormlands, Jon had relegated much of their forces role to protecting the battlements of Winterfell and positioning themselves atop the mountain ridge along the northeast corridor where the dead marched through.

Where the Stormlands lost most of their men was the valley below; the foot soldiers. Most of the kingdoms lost their men in the treacherous path the dead tried to squeeze through during much of the war that lasted two moons.

On the journey home to Tarth, Brienne had taken to walking the deck at night to monitor the dragon’s progress. Her dragon had been severely injured in the battle and spent a week unable to take flight. The great beast followed their ship from the skies above at night but sought land during the day to rest.

Bran had warned that the dragon may refuse to leave Brienne once bonded. He indicated that was why Daenerys had to ride Drogon into battle nearly a year ago. Her other two dragons were not bonded with anyone and would willingly stay back at Dragonstone, scouring the area for food until her return.

As Jaime opened his eyes and took in the smell of the ocean breeze blowing in from the open windows and veranda door, he sat up to enjoy the view from their bedroom. Much to his horror, it was not the ocean he saw in the distance.

 _That fucking dragon_. Jaime flinched at the sight of the great beast as it lay sleeping in the vast yards extending towards the cliff’s edge. Shaking Brienne awake, Jaime leaned in and whispered.

“Brienne. Brienne, wake up.” Shaking the vestiges of sleep, Brienne yawned and rolled to Jaime; wrapping her arms around his waist. “Lay down, Jaime. Its too early.”

“Brienne. You need to get up, now.” Jaime tried to keep calm, but he was convinced the dragon was watching him; waiting for him to step away from Brienne so it could eat him.

Sitting upright, Brienne stretched and looked to Jaime. “What is it?”

With a shaking finger, Jaime pointed out into the yard. “It’s staring at me. It wants to break its fast with me as the main course.”

Brienne snorted and flopped back down. “You woke me up to start an argument over a dragon laying in a field?”

“An argument? What is there to argue over, Brienne? It had its fill of sheep. It wants to eat a lion. Can’t you send it away?”

Brienne chuckled and looked to him. “Send it away to where? Shall we build it a special nest to sleep in at a location more suiting for you? Mayhap its own cottage with a little yard full of sheep it can snack on?”

“Brienne, this isn’t funny. I can’t see the ocean! Why can’t we get a normal pet like a hound or a cat?”

At his words, Brienne guffawed and moved out of bed. “Did you hear that Viserion? Papa says you’re blocking his view. He wants a smaller pet” At the sound of her voice, the great beast stirred and looked more directly at them.

“Are you insane!? Can it understand you? Don’t get me on its shit list!”

Turning back to Jaime, Brienne smiled teasingly. “He only understands Valyrian. Give me a moment, I’ll translate…”

Looking back at the dragon, Brienne raised her voice and began to speak to the dragon. Jaime leapt from the bed and covered her mouth. “No! Tell it I love him and we’ll keep him forever or until a match can be arranged. He just needs a new resting place. I don’t want a heart attack when I get up to piss in the morning.”

Warm air from Brienne’s nose and lips pushed against Jaime’s palm as his hand muffled her laughter. Circling his arms around her, Jaime’s tone lightened. “Now tell him that that I wouldn’t taste half as good as I look.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Jaime, I don’t know that he understands any more than basic commands as a hound would. Quit frankly, I have little desire to teach him tricks. According to Bran, I don’t think he’ll be leaving to find a mate anytime soon. I think you’ll need to get used to him.”

Jaime pouted like a petulant child. “But why does he need to sleep _there_.”

With a slight shrug, Brienne turned to put on her breeches and tunic. Jaime watched her with furrowed brows. “What are you doing?”

Looking back at him, Brienne chucked Jaime’s clothing to him. “Lets go ask it.”

“Ask it what!?”

“Why he doesn’t like you. Although, I think I know why.”

Jaime looked at Brienne as though she had gone mad. “You want to ask a dragon why it doesn’t like me? Should we bring father to mediate? He can bring one of his thinking crates that he enjoys delivering advice from.”

Brienne snorted and began walking through the open door and onto the veranda. Quickly throwing on his clothing to get to her, Jaime stumbled outside while still trying to put on his breeches.

“Brienne! This isn’t funny. Come back.” She turned and grabbed his right arm, dragging him along towards Viserion.

“Your problem is you are very rude when you first meet new people. I can relate to Viersion’s irritation. You called me a great beast when we first met too.”

Jaime scoffed from behind her. “The difference is I was japing about you. He truly is a great beast and I don’t much care to strike up a conversation with him.”

Pulling back his arm, Jaime felt Brienne tighten her grip and yank him along. Brienne looked over her shoulder and spoke in a serious tone. “We aren’t going to talk to him. He just needs to see you with me in a non-panicked, aggressive manner.”

“I am not panicked and aggressive!”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Every time I moved towards him in Winterfell, you freaked out and came running at him.”

Jaime wanted to protest, but they were yards from the dragon who was now glaring at him. _Please don’t eat me_.

Approaching, Brienne kept Jaime close and grabbed his left hand in hers. Slowly moving Jaime’s hand to Viserion’s snout while resting her right hand on his neck, Jaime watched as the dragon’s eyes softened slightly.

“Gods, his skin is so weird.” Brienne huffed a laugh at Jaime’s words and looked back at him. “What were you expecting? Satin?”

 _Point well made_.

“Do you want to ride him?” At the question, Jaime scoffed. “Ride him? No! I’ll stick to horses.”

Brienne laughed and shook her head. She said something in valyrian to the dragon and it stood from its position in the grass. Taking several steps backwards, Brienne tugged Jaime back with her.

With a great flap of its wings, the dragon took off from the yard and flew into the distance. Jaime looked to Brienne in confusion. “What did you tell it?”

“To go hunt. See, now you have your view back.”

“Next time you should be more specific and tell it what _not_ to eat.” Jaime watched the retreating outline of the dragon in the sky.

Placing his hand on Brienne’s blossoming belly, Jaime leaned down and whispered. “I’m not getting you a pet dragon. A horse will have to do. Maybe a hound.”


	3. The Pregnancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne is injured and Jaime finds out that she is with child.

It was a fortnight into the war with the dead when Jon and Brienne made an unsettling discovery. While the wights seemed wild and aimless in their advances, the Night King and his generals demonstrated strategic thinking.

When the Night King observed Jon and Brienne taking shifts to burn the bodies of the fallen, rendering them unable to be raised, something changed in the creature’s approach.

By the third week, the Night King began placing his wight giants and generals in the path of the flames. The creatures took aim with massive spears and arrows targeting the dragons.

Jon consulted with his advisors and everyone felt it best that Jon and Brienne begin taking their shifts together when making passes.

Jaime felt worry set in as he heard Jon recount the onslaught of spears and arrows hurtled at him and Rhaegal from the army of dead men. Brienne confirmed the same during her prior two shifts and a deep fear took root in Jaime’s core.

When Brienne would return from her shifts, she merely offered a smile and tight embrace before they fell into bed together; pulling each other close and whispering of the future they were determined to see. Jaime wanted to hold her forever and hide her away somewhere safe until it was all over.

It was on that third week that Jaime nearly lost Brienne. He and Selwyn had finished eating after their shift. The two sat together in the courtyard and exchanged stories of old battle scars.

Brienne and Jon had moved out to set the fallen ablaze and then journey north to slow the next wave of dead by cutting through their lines with dragon fire.

Jaime was surprised when he heard the horn sound to signal allies returning. _The latest shift shouldn’t have reached the next wave of dead yet_. _Jon and Brienne haven’t been gone long enough to complete their pass_.

Then Jamie heard the shouts. “The King! The Dragonslayer!” Jaime and Selwyn ran from the courtyard and outside the gates. There on the back of Viserion was Jon and an semiconscious Brienne. She was slouched against Jon and the king looked at them with eyes wide in panic.

Jaime and Selwyn took off into a sprint towards the dragon. As they neared, Jaime saw the blood on Brienne’s head; staining her blonde hair. Her armor was dented so badly that it was hanging off.

“What happened!?” Jaime reached up desperately as Jon lowered Brienne’s unconscious body to him. “They got Rhaegal. The Night King killed him with a spear. Brienne flew in to save me, but a giant wight nearly crushed her in the process. Viserion is injured too. He took a spear through the wing and can’t fly well.”

Jaime and Selwyn pulled Brienne down and Jaime’s heart raced as he cradled her in his lap. “Brienne! Brienne, look at me! Please!” Before Jaime could move, Selwyn scooped Brienne into his arms and raced her inside the castle walls. She looked like a rag doll in his arms and Jaime prayed to the gods that she would be alright.

Sansa instructed them to bring Brienne to a private room where her armor and garments could be removed to appraise her injuries. Sam’s wife, Gilly, checked Brienne’s head injury as Jaime and Sansa worked rapidly to remove her armor and mail.

Selwyn paced nervously at the foot of the bed, muttering about how she never should have ridden that damn dragon. In the corner, Sam and Jon spoke in greater detail about what happened. Before Jaime could comment, he saw the injury to Brienne’s side.

Jaime felt his breath catch as he lifted the tunic. Brienne’s ribs were broken on the left and pushing violently against her skin. The area was swollen and purpling rapidly. _Gods. She had on armor and still she was crushed like this!_

Looking to Gilly, he saw slight panic on the woman’s face. Strangely though, her eyes were not on Brienne’s ribs. Jaime followed her eyeline to Brienne’s pelvis and breeches. There was blood on her breeches.

Gilly spoke commandingly to the room. “I need everyone except Lady Sansa out.” Selwyn, Jon, and Sam moved out quickly, but Jaime stood firm in his spot. “I’m not leaving my wife!”

“Is she pregnant?” Gilly’s question was like a slap in the face. “What? No. Well… I don’t think so.” Jaime tried to think back on when Brienne last had her moonblood. He looked down and saw the slightest swell to Brienne’s pelvis.

_Gods. Is she…_

A silent conversation seemed to pass between Gilly and Sansa. “Ser Jaime. You need to leave for a moment.”

Jaime’s head snapped to Sansa. “I said, I’m not leaving her!” The lady of Winterfell took a commanding step forward. “We need to check her, and you need to wait outside. We will get you in a moment.”

Panic set in as Jaime looked back to Brienne. Sansa’s arm came to his; a sympathetic look in her eyes. “Please. Give us a moment. We will get you.”

Gilly moved around the bed and began to remove Brienne’s boots. “When you get out there, tell Sam I need heavy wrappings to bind her ribs.”

Jaime was shoved out the door by Sansa as Gilly set to work. Turning to Sam, Jaime conveyed Gilly’s words and watched as the man ran off to grab supplies. Jaime returned his gaze to the door and could do little more than stare blankly.

Jaime could feel Selwyn’s eyes fixed on the side of his face. “What is going on?”

“They think… they want to check if she is pregnant.” Selwyn gasped at the words and leaned against the wall for support. “Gods. This child will be the death of me. Is she!? Did she tell you?”

Jaime looked to Selwyn, shock still heavy on his face. “No.” Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and Jaime felt a panic attack setting in. His mind raced with fear. _Will Brienne be alright? Is she pregnant? Will the babe make it?_

The door opened, and Sansa looked between Jaime and Selwyn. “Ser Jaime, you can come back in now.” Without hesitating, Jaime moved into the room.

As he stepped inside, Jaime saw Gilly fast at work stitching the open gash on the top of Brienne’s head. Sansa pulled up a chair near Brienne’s bed and pushed Jaime into it. Crouching to eye level, Sansa spoke calmly and commandingly. 

“You are _not_ going to freak out and we are going to get through this. Brienne is pregnant. It is hard to say how far along without her awake to answer Gilly’s questions. She… is bleeding. The only way to know if the babe survives is to wait.”

Jaime felt tears well in his eyes as he looked to Brienne’s unconscious form. “Is she alright?”

Gilly paused her effort and looked to him. “Brienne _should_ be alright. We need to make sure she doesn’t get an infection. It’s the babe we don’t know about.”

A knock came at the door and Gilly opened it to retrieve the wrapping from Sam. Sansa and Gilly quickly worked to align Brienne’s ribs as best they could and bind her.

Approaching Jaime and kneeling before him, Gilly grabbed his hand. “The injury to the head doesn’t look bad. Her body took the brunt of it. She will wake up with a nasty headache and the ribs will put her in a lot of pain. I just want you to be prepared for that. When she wakes, see to it she inhales deeply throughout the day to keep the fever at bay. We need to keep her in bed and resting to recover. And the babe…we need to wait and see.”

Jaime felt like everything was spinning. He wanted to see Brienne’s eyes and talk to her, but he also didn’t want her awake and in pain. They pulled a blanket up to Brienne’s shoulders and gave Jaime privacy to be with Brienne. “Should we send in Selwyn?”

Jaime nodded in affirmation and pulled his chair close to Brienne. _I’m here Brienne. I won’t leave you_. Taking her hand in his, Jaime let the tears fall silently as he watched her steady braething. _Gods keep her and the babe safe._

The door opened and Selwyn walked in quickly. “How is she?” His brows were furrowed in worry as he glanced between Jaime and Brienne.

Jaime told Selwyn of the head injury and fractured ribs. Then he told Selwyn of the babe. Jaime watched as Selwyn paled and grabbed the bed for purchase. “By the Gods, if she knew about this!”

Taking a steadying breath, Selwyn rubbed at the bridge of his nose and wordlessly pulled up a chair next to Jaime. Jaime was in shock and his left hand moved to the slight swell of her belly. Tears continued to quietly roll down his cheeks as he stared to where his hand rested on her stomach.

Draping his right arm over Jaime’s shoulder, Selwyn pulled him close and spoke into the side of Jaime’s head.

“If this babe is half as stubborn as Brienne is, the little one will be alright.”

* * *

Six moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne married. Just over 3.5 moons since Brienne and their babe were almost crushed to death

It was a hot day on Tarth as Jaime held Brienne’s hand and guided her into the water. She was almost six moons along and her belly was making routine tasks more cumbersome than she would like. Jaime thought a dip in the sea might make her feel better.

They had stripped down to their smallclothes and waded in with the intent of jumping waves. As they swam lazily in the water, Brienne’s attention was caught by something in the distance. 

“What is it?” Jaime followed her eyeline, but only saw a small cove ahead.

“I used to play there with Galladon. We played knight and dragon.” Jaime watched as Brienne’s face fell slightly at the memory of her deceased sibling.

Jaime tried to lighten the mood by teasing her a bit. “What? No knight saving the maiden fair? Are you short of bears on Tarth?”

Brienne splashed him and rolled her eyes. Pulling her close, Jaime looked in her eyes. “You know, you never gave me a kiss for rescuing you from the bear. A chivalrous deed deserves a kiss from the maiden.”

“Apologies gallant knight. I was confused if you thought you were rescuing me from the bear or the bear from me. That dress was a fright.” Brienne’s tone was thick with sarcasm as Jaime continued to hold her close to his body.

“Yes, I much preferred seeing the ensemble you wore in the bath.” Jaime smiled teasingly as Brienne gasped in offense. “There was another tub!”

“That one suited me just fine. So, where is my kiss?”

Brienne huffed and placed a chaste kiss to Jaime’s cheek. “Pfft. What was that?”

“A maidenly kiss.” Brienne’s eyes sparkled with jest as Jaime feigned offense. Scooping his arms under her, Jaime moved towards the shore with her in his arm.

“Jaime! Put me down! I’m too heavy. The babe!”

With a laugh, Jaime gently lowered Brienne down to the water’s edge and hoovered over her. “I’m strong enough.” Diving in, Jaime placed a passionate kiss to Brienne’s lips. The incoming waves swirled to their waists as the kiss deepened.

Jaime felt his cock stir as Brienne cupped his face and their tongues explored one another’s mouth. Running his hand down Brienne’s side, Jaime cupped her breast and thumbed at her sensitive nipple.

Brienne arched under his touch and Jaime felt his cock strain against his damp smallclothes as the water continued to lap against them. Lowering his hand to her belly, Jaime rubbed her swollen stomach with his thumb while leaning on his right arm for support.

His hand traveled lower to tug down he smallclothes before pulling down his own.

Brienne chuckled into his lips as Jaime pushed against her. “I don’t remember the knight getting this much from the maiden for a rescue.”

With their lips pressed together, Jaime smiled before breaking the kiss to respond. “You didn’t read the epilogue I take it.”

Pushing into her, Jaime rocked his hips forward rhythmically as his hand returned to her swollen breasts. He marveled at the changes in her body. Pregnancy made her softer and curvier than usual, but her height hid the pregnancy more than a woman of average height.

As the tide continued to encroach on them, Jaime dragged his lips along the curve of Brienne’s jaw. Saltwater droplets landed on their faces from incoming waves. Jaime felt her walls tighten around him as her back arched eagerly against him.

A half year into their marriage, Jaime found the couplings improved with time. His release was better controlled, and he could savor the moment; at times bringing her to release twice before finding his own.

He had been amazed at how good it felt to be with Brienne. With Cersei, everything was urgent and clawing. Their passion too quick to be enjoyed and savored. With Brienne, Jaime’s senses were heightened, and he could take his time. The touch was more passionate, and his body always felt aflame with want. He couldn’t get enough.

As Brienne found her release, Jaime wrapped his arms around Brienne and pulled her onto him as he sat back on his knees. With her leg straddling his, Brienne began to move atop him as Jaime’s hand explored various parts of her body.

Soon they found their release together and Jaime captured her lips again; a wide grin on his face. “This is much more enjoyable than the swims before we were wed.”

Brienne chuckled as she rested her chin on his shoulder, the water lapping up against their legs. Looking at the setting sun, Jaime knew they should get back to the castle, but he didn’t want to let go. He was holding his love and his cub. Memories of the day he nearly lost them swam through his mind.

The memories made Jaime shudder. Visions of Brienne’s smashed in armor and protruding ribs. The blood dripping from her head. The realization that she was with child.

When Brienne awoke the following day from her injury, she was in immense pain as Gilly predicted. They could only give her small doses of milk of the poppy on account of the babe. Jaime took her hand and told her about the pregnancy. He would never forget the fear and shock in her eyes.

“I didn’t know! I swear it. My moonblood has always been so irregular.” Jaime shushed her and moved into the bed next to her; placing his hand on her belly. “It will be alright. I’ll protect you both.”

The bleeding slowed and Brienne, for once, followed instructions. “If this is what it takes to get you to listen, mayhap we should see fit to fill all those nurseries at Evenfall.” Brienne swatted Jaime’s arm at his comment and looked down at the slight swell to her belly.

Of course, they had fought when Brienne decided to mount Viserion again. Selwyn was still unconscious, and she was filled with rage at the Night King’s army for nearly felling her father. They had to fit her with leftover bits of armor from fallen soldiers, but she made do.

Jaime despaired every time she took off on the dragon; broken ribs bound tight and a grimace on her face as she moved into the saddle. They had several fights about it, but Jaime knew there was no stopping her when she set her mind to something. It was one of the many things he loved about her. It was one of her many traits Jaime prayed the little cub took from her. 

_My family. Me, Brienne, our cub, and Selwyn._


	4. The Night King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final confrontation with the Night King.

After the Night King had taken Jon’s dragon, the living feared similar attacks upon them to those Jon and Brienne inflicted on the dead. They were wrong.

The Night King disappeared for weeks in the midst of war. A mix of hope and confusion spread among the living as the dead continued to fall to dragonglass and valyrian steel.

For weeks Jaime urged the men forward, fighting beside the men from Tarth and Bronn while Selwyn and Brienne recovered within the castle walls. Jaime felt a warmth spread through him as the Tarth soldiers looked to him for command.

Their eyes met Jaime’s and shone with nothing but trust and loyalty. They had begun referring to Jaime as their ‘sapphire lion’. It began in jest but grew into a term of respect and endearment. A nod to his lion lineage and permanent place on their Sapphire Isle.

He heard it during raucous evenings when their shifts ended. “Did you see our sapphire lion!? He felled an ice spider!” “Let them send the giant wights. Our sapphire lion will cut them down to size.”

Then he began hearing it in battle; a more commanding and defensive tone shouted amongst their ranks. “Guard the sapphire lion!”

When Brienne felt well enough and took flight, she burned the fallen and made bigger dents in the Night King’s army. The men looked to him as they shuffled back to Winterfell; their shift ended for the night. “The future Evenstar is back! Broken ribs won’t stop her! She and our sapphire lion will end this war!”

Hope began to spread among the living as the numbers of the dead dwindled. Bran monitored their numbers and estimated the living doubled the quantity of dead remaining. The end was in sight, but still no one had seen the Night King or his dead dragon.

Just over a moon passed before they understood where he went. The commanders were called in as Bran sat in his wheelchair, an icy glare cast at seemingly no one. “The Night King will be here shortly. I found him. He went south to raise more dead. Dead he could raise that were not ash. His numbers are replenished.”

Whatever hope had been thrumming through the room was abruptly snuffed out like a flickering flame in a storm. They exited the war room to inform the troops. They would fight the last of the dead coming in from the northeast, and the new, larger army of death moving in from the south.

Jaime pulled Brienne close before their shift began. Everyone’s shift. This was their last stand. Scores of living assembled outside the gates of Winterfell. All eyes went to the east. To the brightest star in the night sky.

Selwyn had been conscious and recovering for a fortnight, but still weak from injury. As he had done since the day he awoke, Selwyn led the them in the prayer of the Evenstar. Gripping Brienne’s hand in his left, Jaime looked to her. Her chin was raised defiantly as she looked into the night.

“Brienne. Please. Don’t go out there tonight. I need you and our babe alive.”

Turning to Jaime with a fierce determination, she whispered for his ears only. “After this night, there won’t be anything left to be alive for. This is it.”

Pulling her close, Jaime pressed a firm kiss to her lips. “Fight beside me tonight. Please.”

Brienne smiled. “I’ll find you on the battlefield. First, I need Viserion to find his brother.”

Jaime understood what she was doing. She was going to engage the Night King from the air. They knew their only chance to win was to take him out. Jaime and the Tarth men committed to following the path of the dragon and dragonslayer in the sky. They would fight under her command literally and figuratively.

The cry of a dead dragon in the distance alerted them of the approaching army. They moved into position and Brienne mounted Viserion. Rising into the air, she took off and their forces followed, charging straight towards death itself.

Jaime followed Brienne’s every move with the men of Tarth at his side. Slicing through the dead, Jaime felt like as though he had been set ablaze himself. To his far left, Jon could be seen leading his own flank ahead.

Dodging and striking, Jaime slice through wights while keeping his eyes to the sky. An errant swing nearly saw his left side cut into as he was left wide open, but a familiar grunt and blade cut off an attack from a charging wight. Selwyn.

“What are you doing out here!?” Jaime’s tone was laced with fear and shock. The older lord looked frail as he met Jaime’s eye.

“I will not let my children die while I sit behind castle walls!” Jaime knew the look in Selwyn’s eyes. He had seen it in Brienne’s so many times before.

The cries of dragons caught their attention. Looking up, he saw Viserion and an undead Rhaegal clawing at one another in midair. They were just to the southeast from Jaime’s current position on the battlefield. “Brienne!”

Jaime took off running and heard Selwyn call his men along. Slicing through every wight in his path, Jaime looked back to the sky and saw Viserion take a chunk out of his dead brother’s throat. The undead dragon reeled backwards, and Brienne reached out from her harness, plunging Oathkeeper into its exposed gullet. As Rhaegal toppled backwards, the Night King fell to the ground.

 _This is it!_ From the corner of his eye, Jaime saw Jon. The king noted the same opportunity to end this war and surged forward ferociously.

Making his way forward towards the fallen Night King, Jaime slashed away as the Tarth men followed. Jon made it to the Night King first and began his assault. Suddenly, Jaime saw an all too familiar wight approach. He would recognize that body anywhere, even with its smashed in skull and green eyes turned blue. _Cersei_.

A moment of hesitation and memories past nearly cost Jaime his life. A wight moved fast towards his weak side, but Jaime blocked the blow just in time. Cutting through the threat with his sword, Jaime looked back to his undead sister.

It was easy to tell her death had been met with a violent impact from a high fall. The back of her head was split wide open and black sludge covered what little remained of her skull. The impact was so severe that it cracked her facial features at the front; completely distorting her face. Her limbs hung loosely at her side as she shambled towards him.

This woman had, at one point, been his twin, his lover, his everything. Now standing before him, Jaime mused that her exterior finally reflected what she became at the end of life. Broken and soulless. Ugly.

Even still, Jaime didn’t _want_ to kill Cersei a second time. The first was a choice. Brienne or Cersei. Jaime hadn’t hesitated when he realized the choice had to be made. It would always be Brienne. Jaime did understand that he _needed_ to kill her a second time.

She stood between him and the Night King. Between him and a chance to help Jon end this war. Then his thoughts went to Brienne. Brienne and their cub. He needed to kill Cersei to get to the Night King. He needed to kill the Night King to save Brienne and all the living.

Behind Jon and the Night King, Brienne and Viserion had touched down. The living dragon continued to spew flames at the incoming wights to keep them at bay; a protective circle around Jon, his men, and the Night King.

Brienne slide down from the dragon; her sword in hanad. Joining Jon, the two attacked the Night King, but he was too strong. Too fast. Jon and Brienne struggled to keep up with his movements and Jaime felt his heart pound at the sight of his pregnant wife fighting for her life and the lives of all those around her.

The ground around them burned with the dead from where dragon fire had set the fallen ablaze. The scene before Jaime played out as though hundreds of torches lit the path to Jon and the Night King.

Running forward, Jaime raised his sword and shoved it through Cersei’s chest. She hardly registered the blow just as her fellow wights failed to. They were just physical masses, mindlessly clawing forward.

The body that once belonged to his sister stumbled backwards and onto another fallen wight. Her body caught fire on impact. Jaime reached down and pulled the sword from her burning chest. The path to the Night King was clear.

Jon and Brienne were in the fight of their lives; alternating strikes against the Night King. With Widow’s Wail in hand and flames billowing off the steel from the fire engulfed decaying flesh of wight Cersei still clinging to it, Jaime surged forward. Jon’s blade was knocked out of hand by the Night King and Brienne shoved the young king out of the way in time to deflect a killing blow.

Jaime felt his heartrate increase as the Night King raised his sword at Jaime’s love. As the Night King’s blade swung down at her, Jaime’s flaming blade thrust into his unsuspecting back. The Night King shattered into a million shards of ice. 

As Jaime dropped to his knees in shock, he locked eyes with Brienne. The remaining dead around them slowly fell to the ground; lifeless as they ought to be. Surging towards one another, Brienne and Jaime met in a tight embrace.

“Brienne! You’re alright.” Jaime had never felt such sweet relief as that moment. He pulled back to meet her eyes, his left hand cupping her cheek before dropping to her belly.

Jon’s eyes were wide in shock as he sat up; panting and shaking from adrenaline. “You did it!”

From behind Jaime, he heard Selwyn’s approaching voice. “My boy! By the Gods you fucking did it.” Selwyn crashed into Jaime and Brienne; the men of Tarth screaming cheers of relief behind him.

Selwyn’s body croaked out a disbelieving laugh as he leaned against them. Pulling back slightly, his disbelieving laughter picked up. “You’ll never shake your nickname now. Our Kingslayer. Ha! My son!”

It was the first time that Jaime heard his nickname and felt pride instead of shame. Before the war with the dead and once everyone found out the truth of Aerys’ death, it seemed the entirety of Westeros stopped using Jaime’s moniker.

Instead, their heads bowed in respect when Jaime walked by. Even the northerners seemed to approve of him.

There in the fields outside Winterfell, Jaime chuckled at the sound of the restored nickname. It had never been spoke with reverence before. With pride or respect.

Selwyn ruffled Jaime’s hair and yanked him from the grand. “Ha! See him boys! My son, the Kingslayer! These two here can kill anything! Dragons, Night Kings, ice spiders, you name it!’

The Tarth men cheered and shouted to the other contingents. “The sapphire lion did it!” “Our dragonslayer and kingslayer. No one will mess with Tarth!”

It was the West who stood quietly. Expressions of awe and pride aimed at _their_ lion. The Golden Lion.

* * *

7 moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne married. 3 moons since the Night King fell.

Jaime sat beside Selwyn in the hall of Evenfall. It was midday and light poured in through the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the yards and village below. They had been seeing petitioners all morning and Jaime stifled a yawn as he glanced to the doorway; straining to see how much longer the line was.

A weathered looking trader strode into the hall following Ser Duncan. The trader’s attire gave away his homeland as Pentos. His salt slick hair and tan skin reflected many moons of travel on the seas.

Jaime watched as the man appraised Selwyn before catching sight of Jaime. The man’s eyes widened slightly, and his brows furrowed.

“Greetings Lord Tarth. My name is Ordello and I am a spice merchant from Pentos seeking access to your ports for trade. Word has reached Pentos of the growing trade opportunities with your island as the gateway to Westeros.”

The man cast a suspicious look back to Jaime before continuing. “Pardon me Lord Tarth, but I thought your heir was a woman.”

Jaime tried to suppress the laugh bubbling in his throat. He was sitting in Brienne’s seat. The seat traditionally reserved for the heir to Tarth. The next Evenstar. Brienne was abed with lower back pain as her pregnancy neared its eighth moon. Selwyn had asked Jaime to take her place that day.

Selwyn sighed at needing to explain Jaime’s presence for the hundredth time that day. “My daughter is abed and heavy with child. This is her husband. My son, Ser Jaime Lannister of Tarth.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, and a familiar distaste flashed across his features. _Ah. He knows me as **that** Kingslayer_. The word seemed to spill from the man’s lips on instinct. “ _Kingslayer_. I thought Tarth was honorable.”

Jaime had been called Kingslayer often since the Long Night, but never in _that_ tone. The tone laced with scorn and disdain. Old memories flooded back to Jaime, but before he could respond, Selwyn had launched himself from his chair.

“Yes. My son, the Kingslayer. Slayer of the mad king Aerys to prevent him from burning half a million innocents in their homes. Slayer of the Night King to save humanity. I would say Tarth not only has honor, but enough to fill the whole of Westeros and beyond.”

Ser Duncan took a menacing step towards the spice trader, his hand at the hilt of his sword. The soldiers standing guard in the hall growled in distaste at the trader.

With a snide smile, the trader spoke. “My apologies. I did not realize history had been… fictitiously rewritten.”

Selwyn began to respond, but Duncan moved behind the man and slammed the hilt of his sword into the trader’s skull. Ordello fell forward and cried out in pain, grabbing the back of his head.

“Apologies. I saw a fly. The smell of your shit must overpower those spices.” Jaime snorted at Duncan’s words and a smile tugged at Selwyn’s lips. The older lord moved down the steps to stand before Ordello who continued to kneel on the floor in pain.

“You may not use our docks for trade. You may not sail through our waters. You will not dishonor us with your presence any longer. Get back on your ship and return across the Narrow Sea. Perhaps you can inform the rest of Pentos of the _correct_ telling of history lest they try and sail my seas with filth upon their lips and find their ships set ablaze.”

The merchant stood with a slight sway and dashed from the hall. Duncan called back to one of his men while keeping his eyes fixed on Ordello’s retreating form. “Alwin. Follow him. Make certain Ordello leaves on his ship immediately. Lets give him a proper Tarth sendoff.”

Alwin smiled and nodded to Duncan before charging out of the hall and taking two men with him. _Gods I’m to miss all the fun. I do enjoy Tarth’s sendoffs to unwelcome guests_.

With a bow and smile aimed at Jaime, Duncan moved to bring in the next petitioner. Selwyn turned on heel and marched back up to his seat.

In a huff, Selwyn sat down and reached over to ruffle Jaime’s hair. “You keep things interesting around here. I almost fell asleep in my chair before that one.”


	5. The Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birth during the long night and a birth on Tarth

The young woman screamed and gritted her teeth as she bared down through another contraction. “I can’t! I can’t do this! Fuck!”

Jon put a gentle hand on the woman’s belly and met her eyes. “Aye, you can. You have to. Just a bit more.”

Jaime looked back into the distance. _Seven hells. We need to get them to_ _castle_.

The young woman and her son had been spotted in the distance at the end of their shift. Villagers from neighboring areas had been slowing trickling into Winterfell for shelter as the army of the dead pushed further southwest.

From the tree stump beside the woman, the young boy sobbed. “Momma. I want to go home.” Jaime moved to the child and crouched down.

“I know you’re scared, but you can’t go back there now. You’ll be safe at Winterfell. We’ll get you there, but momma needs to get the babe out first.”

When they had seen the pair approaching through the snow squall, the woman was screaming in pain and stumbling every few steps. Jaime had feared the noise would alert the dead, but the wind was so fierce that the screams died out just yards away.

Jon tried to scoop the woman into his arms and carry her, but the babe’s head was nearly out and they had no option but to deliver her in the field. 

“Ah fuck! Something is wrong!” The woman’s screams were desperate and pleading. Jon looked to Jaime and the soldiers with worry.

“Ser Jaime, can you take the boy to the castle? I don’t think he should be here for this.” With a hesitant nod, Jaime turned back to the young boy that he was crouched before. Placing a gentle hand on the lad’s shoulder, Jaime met his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

Through tears, the boy choked out a reply. “Benjamin.” 

Jaime smiled warmly. “Benjamin, we’re going to take you to the castle now. King Jon here is going to help you momma, alright?”

The boy shook his head and sobbed. “No. I don’t want to leave momma!”

“I know you don’t, but momma needs to get the babe out. She’ll see you soon. We’ll get you some warm food and something to drink, alright?”

The sound of the woman’s screams cut through the air again and Benjamin’s eyes snapped to his mother.

“Go Benjy! Go with the soldiers.” The woman spoke through gritted teeth and looked back desperately at her son.

Jaime scooped up the young boy and nodded to the woman. “We’ll take care of him. I swear it.” Making his way quickly to the castle, Jaime moved through the gates and looked around for somewhere to set him down.

“Are you hungry, Benjamin?” Jaime looked to the young boy whose eyes were wide with fear. His deep blue eyes nearly concealed by his long curls.

“Aye, I’m hungry. Is momma coming soon?” The boy’s eyes focused on the gate as if trying to summon his mother.

“I’m certain they’re not far behind. Let me get you some soup.” Before Jaime could set Benjamin down, Sansa approached.

“Who is this little one?” She reached for the boy and Jaime passed him over. The lad looked to be around four years, but his eyes reflected an entire lifetime worth of horrors.

“This is Benjamin. He and his momma were on the way here. Jon is with her in the field. We couldn’t get her back in time. She’s having a babe.”

Sansa’s eyes flitted to Jaime; concern writ across her face. “I’ll sit with him Ser Jaime. Why don’t you get him some soup.”

Jaime made his way inside to fetch the boy something to eat. On the way back, he observed Sansa speaking soothingly to the young lad. It had become a familiar scene. Sansa consoling her people who lose loved one or frightened children whose father’s marched off to fight. _She will make an excellent mother someday._

In the distance, he could see the rest of the men approaching the gates. Jon was jogging ahead with a screaming babe tucked under his cloak. Behind him, one of the men carried the limp form of the woman. _Gods, no._

Walking to Sansa, Jaime handed Benjamin the soup; his eyes catching Jon’s sorrowful stare as they entered the gates. With a slight shake of the head, Jon ran the babe into the castle.

The men brought the woman’s body inside; her clothes soaked in blood and heavy frowns set on their faces. She wasn’t the first woman to die giving birth during the long night and she wasn’t the last.

Jaime watched from the gates later that day as Sansa broke the news to Benjamin. Jaime’s heart ached for the boy and newborn who would have to live without their mother. Making his way up to Brienne’s room, he curled against her recovering form and dropped his hand to her belly.

* * *

8 moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne wed. 5.5 moons since they found out Brienne was pregnant

Jaime lay in bed with Brienne pressed against him. His thumb traced lazy circles on her belly as they each caught their breath. Jaime’s softening cock was still inside her warm folds as her hand reached back and her fingers ran through his hair.

The cool ocean breeze blew through the open windows and rustled the blankets. Their sweat slicked skin pimpled under the cold air as Jaime pulled up the covers and slipped out of her.

Brienne whimpered slightly at the loss of contact, but Jaime slide his arms back around her and kissed her shoulder. She was nearly eight moons pregnant and had struggled to find sleep of late.

Jaime didn’t mind her restlessness as it meant more time with. Time to hold her, whisper to her, and make love to her.

As their breathing calmed, both fell into sleep.

Jaime awoke with a start as Brienne bolted upright. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Jaime noticed it was still dark out; hours from sunrise. “Brienne? What’s wrong?”

“Jaime. It hurts! Something is wrong.” Jaime watched as Brienne bent forward and grabbed at her belly; pained etched on her face.

Any vestiges of sleep were quickly wiped away as panic hit him. “I’ll get the maester!” Quickly throwing on breeches and a tunic, Jaime turned to bring Brienne her smallclothes and night tunic. She groaned in pain and held her breath

Brienne looked to Jaime; her eyes wide in fear. “Jaime. I’m bleeding.” Looking to the bed, he saw it. _Fuck._

“I’ll be right back!” Jaime ran down the hall and to Selwyn’s room. They had discussed this many a night in Selwyn’s study while sipping on whiskey. Should Brienne go into labor during the night, Jaime was to get Selwyn who would handle rousing the maester and midwife so that Jaime could stay with Brienne.

Banging on the door, Selwyn answered in a hurry; his long night tunic hanging off his shoulders slightly. Through bleary eyes and slight confusion, he muttered to Jaime. “What’s going on?”

“Something is wrong with Brienne and the babe. She needs the maester.” Selwyn quickly threw on breeches and ran out the door. “Go back to her son. I’ll get the maester.”

Jaime ran back to the room and saw Brienne on her hands and knees in pain. “Jaime! It hurts so much!” Her night tunic was bunched up at her hips and she had yet to get her smallclothes on.

Uncertain what to do, Jaime ran back to the bed and rubbed her back. “I’m here. Your father is getting the maester. What can I do?”

Another wave of pain gripped Brienne and she reached for his arm. Squeezing tightly, Brienne cried out in pain and leaned forward again. Jaime thought his arm might fall off from the strength of her grip, but he said nothing and implored her to breathe.

“You fucking breathe! It hurts.”

Within moments, Selwyn and the maester came running into the room. Jaime tugged down Brienne’s tunic and looked to the maester.

“Somethings wrong. I think the babe is coming, but she is not even 8 moons.”

The maester had Brienne lay down as she gritted her teeth and held her breath through another wave of pain. “My lady, the babe is coming. Its early, but the labor has started.”

Looking to Jaime and Selwyn, the maester nodded. “I’ll take care of her from here. If you want to call for the midwife, we can get you when the babe is here.”

Jaime scoffed and moved closer to Brienne. “I’m not leaving her.”

The master looked to Selwyn; horror writ across his face. Selwyn chuckled and shook his head. “Son, I don’t know that you want to be in here for his.”

Shooting Selwyn a look that brokered no argument, Jaime moved closer to Brienne. Selwyn threw up his hands in surrender. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a sigh, Selwyn turned to leave the room and called back to the maester.

“I’ll call for the midwife. Good luck my little star. I’ll be outside.”

Brienne writhed in pain and gritted her teeth. “Good luck! What the fuck! This isn’t a tourney father!”

Jaime chuckled at Brienne’s words as another wave of pain hit her. She gritted her teeth and grabbed his arm again. _Fucking hells! I’m already short one hand_.

The maester looked uneasily at Jaime. “My lord, this is most unusual. I would encourage you to wait outside. All fathers do”

“I said, I’m staying! There are no fathers like me. Only me” Jaime pushed back a strand of hair from Brienne’s forehead and looked her over; worry framing his features.

Brienne chuckled at his words and Jaime smiled knowing she recognized the reference. As she laid back against the pillows, Brienne whimpered slightly. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this.”

“I think it’s a bit late for that now. We’re going to have a little one. We’ll get through this.” Jaime rubbed her belly, but Brienne’s face flashed with irritation.

“We!? We’re going to get through this!? When is it your turn to feel this pain!?” Brienne spat the words, but another wave of pain hit her as the maester futzed about near the foot of the bed.

 _Alright noted. Don’t say ‘we’_.

The midwife soon arrived, and things began to move quickly. They placed additional linens under Brienne and checked her progress. “The babe is still high my lady. You’ve a while to go yet.”

Brienne managed to cry and laugh at the same tie. “A while yet. What the fuck does that mean!? My body is getting torn in half.”

Jaime chuckled into her head. “I’ve never heard you swear so much _Ser_ Brienne. It’s not very knightly.”

“Oh, piss off!” With a hard shove to Jaime’s arm, Brienne looked to the ceiling and braced herself as another contraction hit.

Hours passed and the sun soon came up. Brienne was sweating and rolling from side to side in pain. “I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much.”

Jaime tried and failed to cover a yawn, but Brienne locked eye son him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do I bore you!? Fuck you Jaime Lannister. This is your fault!” With a hard punch to his arm, Jaime flinched. Any thoughts of sleep quickly leaving him.

“I’m sorry! I’m just tired.”

“Tired!? Get the fuck out! I’ll run you through with my sword! I’ll get the dragon!” Brienne shoved him away before another wave of pain hit her.

Jaime looked in panic at the maester and midwife. With a warm smile, midwife inclined her head towards the door. “Mayhap m’lord, you would be more comfortable outside.”

The maester chuckled and shook his head. “Now Alys. There are no fathers like him, only him.”

Jaime scoffed at the maester, but before he could reply another contraction hit Brienne.

“Brienne, I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

Throwing her arms out in pain, Brienne’s fist clocked Jaime in the nose. “Oh fuck! Gods damnit.”

Looking to Jaime, Brienne’s eyes flashed with rage. “I’m sorry. Did that hurt!?”

Jaime didn’t need to wipe his nose to know it was bleeding. “I’ll uh… just wait outside.”

Brienne screamed in pain again and leaned back into the pillow. The midwife placed a gentle hand on his arm and guided him out the door. “We’ll get you when the babe is safely delivered m’lord.”

As the door closed behind him, Jaime looked up to meet Selwyn’s mirth-filled eyes. Jaime could feel the blood trickling slightly down his face and Selwyn guffawed loudly. “I did try to warn you. Come, have a seat. You’ll be safer here.”

Selwyn had pulled up two chairs on the opposite wall outside the bedroom. Sitting down with a groan, Jaime leaned his head back against the wall and wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his tunic. Selwyn chuckled lightly and stood from his seat.

“You’re lucky the nose didn’t break. I’ve been on the receiving end of Brienne’s fist before.” Producing a handkerchief from his pocket, Selwyn pinched the bridge of Jaime’s nose.

Brienne’s screams could be heard through the door and Jaime’s eyes filled with worry. “Maybe I should go back in with her. I don’t need a nose anyway.”

Selwyn huffed laugh and shook his head. Placing a large arm around Jaime, Selwyn scooted his chair closer. “She’ll be alright son. She’s a fighter… as your face just received a reminder of.”

 _I want to be with her, but she might tear my face off._ Selywn’s hand patted the nape of Jaime’s neck. “Why don’t you go rest in the guest room, son? I’ll wake you when the babe is here.”

Jaime shook his head. “No. I won’t leave her. I want to be there when the babe is out.”

Selwyn tried to distract Jaime with stories, but all Jaime could think of was Brienne. Every time she screamed, he wanted to run into the room and hold her. Then he heard it. A babe’s cry.

Jaime looked to Selwyn excitedly. They both stood quickly and stared at the door. Jaime felt as though his heart might beat out of his chest. Then he heard the maester speaking urgently. _What is going on?_

Alys quickly left the room and ran past them down the hallway. Turning to Selwyn, Jaime saw the older lord’s face pale. _Gods, no_. Jaime moved towards the door, but Selwyn’s firm hand grabbed him. “Wait son.”

Selwyn’s face was staring down the hallway and Jaime turned to follow his eyes. Within moments, Alys was running back toward the room with another woman. Jaime looked to the midwife imploringly. “What’s going on?”

As the women approached the room, Alys quickly turned to them. “Just give us a moment. Wait here m’lords.”

Jaime felt his frustration mounting. Pacing wildly outside the room, Jaime couldn’t take his eyes off the door. “Why is this happening!? The babe cried. The babe is here.”

Selwyn was still pale and lost in memories. “Don’t let it happen again.” The older lord’s words were barely a whisper. Jaime stopped in his tracks and stared. “What?”

Selwyn slumped into the chair. His eyes fixed on the door. Jaime moved to Selwyn and locked eyes with him. “What is happening again?” _Gods. Is this how his wife died?_

More frantic voices came from the other side of the door. _Why can’t I hear Brienne?_ Jaime looked back to Selwyn who was frozen in place. Unable to contain himself, Jaime surged forward and opened the door. “Brienne?”

There was blood all over the bed and the maester. The room was abuzz with activity, but Jaime couldn’t take his eyes off Brienne. Her body was pale and her breathing shallow. Alys was quickly at his side and blocking this view. “Let the maester work on her.”

“What is going on? Brienne!” At Jaime’s words, Brienne’s head lolled to the side; the light in her sapphire eyes dim. Jaime struggled forward, but Selwyn quickly pulled him back. “Out son. Come on.”

The door closed in Jaime’s face as he struggled to get back in. “Please! I need to go to her!”

As Selwyn’s strong arms held him back, Jaime slumped to the ground before the door as panic set in. “Breathe son! Breathe! The maester can’t do his job and concentrate if you’re in there losing your mind.”

Selwyn leaned down and held Jaime tightly in his arms. “Why is there so much blood!?” Jaime felt everything spinning around him as he clung desperately to Selwyn. “Is this what happened to Alysanne?” _Is this what happened to my mother?_

Selwyn sighed and held Jaime close. “Lets not think on it.” _Fucking hells. I’m going to lose her. I can’t lose her._ _I can’t let her die alone._ Memories from Winterfell flashed through his mind. The woman’s screams and Benjamin’s cries.

“I need to hold her.” Jaime’s tone was beseeching, but Selwyn only tightened his grip. “Listen to me son. They can’t help her if you’re in the way and fretting over her. Do you hear me.”

The sound of a babe crying again caught Jaime’s attention. Selwyn’s head snapped up at the sound before looking to Jaime. “Now you listen to me son. No matter what happens, that babe needs you. Do you hear me? Don’t do what I did to Brienne. I neglected her when I lost Alysanne.”

Jaime felt tears in his eyes. “I want them both.”

With a heavy sigh, Selwyn stood and pulled Jaime up. “Look at me. Gods willing you will have them both until the stranger takes you. If the seven don’t will it, you love whatever they leave you with. Understand?”

Jaime nodded slowly but couldn’t take his eyes off the door. What felt like an eternity later, the door opened to reveal a weary looking maester. He had covered his blood-stained tunic with his jerkin and looked between them.

“My lords. Lady Brienne has lost a lot of blood, but she should be alright. She is quite weak, and I need to get her some soup and water. Alys will be out in a moment to fetch you.”

A relief washed over Jaime as he sagged into Selwyn. The older lord sighed heavily and thanked the maester. “Gods. She’s alright.”

The maester made his way downstairs and Alys soon opened the door. “My lords. You can come in now.”

Jaime entered the room and saw the pile of blood soiled linens on the floor. Brienne looked like she fought the stranger himself as she lay propped up against the pillows; a weak smile on her face. Jaime ran to her and kissed. “Brienne. You scared me.”

From his backside, Jaime heard Selwyn gasp. Jaime turned to see him looking slack jawed towards the midwife. Following his eyeline, Jaime saw Alys and the other woman each holding a babe. _Twins._

Jaime turned to Brienne in shock who smiled weakly. “The second one nearly killed me. I have half a mind to name him Jaime.” _A son? I have a son?_

Tears rolled down Jaime’s face as he stood off the bed and moved to the babes. Alys stepped forward. “Two healthy boys my lord.” Jaime stared at the babes in shock.

Selwyn grabbed Jaime’s shoulder and ruffled his hair. “Good lad! Ha! Twins.”

“Good lad? Fuck you both.” Jaime chuckled as he looked back to Brienne, indignation on her face.

“Have a seat m’lord. We’ll bring them to you.”

Turning to Alys, Jaime’s jaw dropped in awe. “I can hold them?”

Selwyn chuckled. “They are yours. You’ll be holding them quite a lot, I imagine.” _They’re mine. I can hold them. I can claim them._

Jaime moved back to the bed and sat next to Brienne as Alys and the other woman walked the babes over. _Gods I’ve never held a babe before_. “What do I do?”

Brienne’s nose wrinkled in confusion. “Never?” Jaime knew what she meant, and he shook his head in denial. A sympathetic look flashed across her face as Alys showed him what to do.

“Cradle the head in your elbow here. This little man was born first.” The babe was lowered onto Jaime’s right elbow, his stump tucked under the babe’s body. Jaime looked down at the newborn in his arms and his eyes flooded with tears. _My son_.

The other woman walked over with the second babe. Alys propped a pillow under Jaime’s left arm and placed the second babe into the crook of his elbow. “This little one fought us the entire way. Quite the troublemaker.”

Jaime smiled as the second babe was placed in his arm. _I have two sons_.

Selwyn pulled up a chair by the bed and looked down in awe at their faces before meeting Brienne’s eyes. “Good work my girl! They’re perfect. Ha! Genna will be thrilled. One for the east and one for the west.”

Jaime found he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “We have two boys, Brienne. Two!”

The door to the room flew open and the maester came in with hot soup and water. “My lady. I need you to have some soup. We need to get the color back in you.” Alys and the maester helped Brienne sit upright on the bed and held the soup bowl to her lips.

Jaime looked to Selwyn. “Do you want to hold one?” At his words, Selwyn beamed. “Yes! I’ll take one of my grandsons.”

Turning to Brienne, Jaime raised a brow in question. “The boy name we discussed for the oldest?”

Brienne smiled warmly and nodded. As Jaime turned back to face Selwyn, he inclined his head towards the babe in his right arm; his firstborn. “Here, take little Selwyn.”

Selwyn’s eyes looked to him wide in shock. “Selwyn?”

Brienne snorted from Jaime’s side. “You think your _son_ here would consider anything else? The boy name was the easy one, although we hadn’t counted on twins.”

Jaime chuckled and looked to Selwyn whose eyes shone with tears as he reached down to take the babe. “My grandson. What a wonderful name you have.” Selwyn squeezed Jaime’s shoulder with his free hand as he cradled the babe in his right. “Thank you, children.”

In Selwyn’s massive arms, the babe looked even smaller. Jaime met Brienne’s eyes and inclined his head towards the other babe. “And our little fighter here who gave momma such a hard time?”

A sad smile tugged at Brienne’s lips. “Pod.”


	6. The Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime reflects on friends lost and current

It wasn’t the darkness nor the fighting that wore on the living the most. It wasn’t the wretched food nor the cramped sleeping quarters. It was the loss of loved ones.

Men falling in battle was nothing new to Jaime. As an army commander, he had seen death up close many times in the past. Nothing could have prepared Jaime for this fight, however.

Near two moons of fighting and they had all lost friends and family. Wives lost husbands. Children lost parents. Soldiers lost comrades.

Jon Snow’s head hung heavy with grief. Just the day prior. Tormund had saved his life and died in the process. An undead bear came charging at the king; its face half missing and sludge dripping from his teeth.

Jaime moved to give aid, but Tormund stepped in first. Shoving Jon to the ground, the wilding shoved his battleax into the creature, but not before its teeth clamped around Tormund’s neck. The sight was grizzly, and Jamie had to look away as Tormund’s neck was bitten straight through.

As much as Jaime and Tormund had been at odds in the past, he respected the wildling and came to see him as a good man. He was loyal and brave; willing to give his life for a friend. He never saw Jon as a king, but rather as a brother.

Then there was the day that Jaime lost another friend. It was days before the Night King returned. They had been out in the field contending with another wave of dead things when Jaime spotted a White Walker in the distance.

Running towards the creature, Jaime lifted his sword and swung aggressively. Jon had informed them that when a White Walker fell, any wight they had turned would fall too.

What Jaime had not expected was the strength of the dead creature. With a might swipe of its arm, the White Walker sent Jaime flying backwards into a rock. Jaime sat up in a daze and readied himself to parry a blow, but Duncan and Bronn ran in.

The men swung and parried as Jaime shook the haze from his head. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion around him. As another wight charged at Jaime, he easily felled the creature and looked up to see his friend meet the stranger.

Duncan was hunched over, clutching at his arm. The White Walker swung down violently, but Bronn stepped in at the last minute. Shoving Duncan out of the way, Bronn blocked the blow, but the force of the creature’s swing was too strong.

Bronn’s sword did little to stop the incoming blade which cut straight through his head. Jaime screamed out as Duncan shoved his dragonglass dagger into the creature’s side. The White Walker shattered and with his death, the surrounding wights fell.

Jaime ran to Bronn and dropped to his knees. The blow had killed him instantly. “Fuck!” Jaime turned at Duncan’s words. The young knight who reminded Jaime so much of Bronn at times was beside himself. Jaime had observed the strong bond forged between the two men since they met so many moons ago.

 _First I lost Addam. Now Bronn_. Jaime thought back to when Addam had died and the haunted look on Bronn’s face. He had told Bronn that Addam would have been happy with a death that saved a friend in the process. Jaime knew the same to be true of Bronn.

Standing from beside Bronn’s lifeless body, Jaime placed a steady hand on Duncan’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t have regretted it.” The Tarth knight’s eyes were wet with unshed tears as he met Jaime’s eyes and nodded slowly.

By far one of the hardest deaths to stomach was one Jaime wasn’t there to witness. Brienne had gone out on Viserion to burn the bodies of the fallen soldiers. Not long into her shift, Jaime was surprised to hear the sound of Viserion returning.

Moving into the courtyard, Jaime saw Brienne slide down from the dragon; tears pouring from her eyes. In her arms, she held the lifeless body of Pod.

Jaime ran to her in shock. “Brienne! What happened!?”

Brienne could hardly speak through her choked sobs. “I saw him. I saw him dead on the ground. I can’t do it. I can’t burn him, Jaime.”

Looking to the young man’s lifeless body, he saw the killing blow. Something had sliced clear across Pod’s gut.

Brienne dropped to her knees and held her squire close. “I should have been with him. I wasn’t there. What if he died alone? He must have been so scared.”

Jaime held her tight as she clutched Pod’s cold body. “Brienne. Please, we have to burn the body. You won’t have it in you to end him again should the need arise.”

Pulling back, Brienne shook her head adamantly. “No! No! Jaime, please. Don’t make me do it.”

Jaime looked back towards the gates. “I’ll be right back. Stay here Brienne.” Running inside, Jaime found Jon and explained the situation. Jon knew what Jaime was asking him to do and nodded solemnly. “Aye, I’ll be right there.”

Moving back into the yard, Jamie found Brienne right where he left her. She was clutching Pod on the ground; Viserion curled close behind her. _Is the dragon mourning with her?_

As he approached Brienne’s side, Jaime grabbed her shoulder. “Brienne. It’s time to let go.”

Brienne looked up at him and her tear stained face broke his heart. Before letting go, she looked down at Pod one last time. Brienne reached to his neck and yanked off his necklace before slowly lowering his body to the ground.

Jaime looped an arm around her waist as Jon approached from the gates. Patting Brienne’s shoulder as he went by, Jon approached Viserion and give the command to Viserion once Jaime had pulled Brienne into the castle.

Tugging Brienne close once they were inside, Jaime let her cry against him until she had no tears left.

* * *

10 moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne married. 6 moons since the last of the living had fallen.

Jaime stood in the courtyard outside Evenfall Hall as the horses and carriage made their way up the hill from the docks. Little Selwyn was tucked into his right arm and Brienne stood at his side holding little Pod.

At only two moons, Pod was the needier of the twins. He clung to Brienne as though his life depended on it and gave her a hard time throughout the night. Little Selwyn by comparison took after his namesake; calm and steady.

Pod began to squirm in Brienne’s arms and his fists pushed against the swaddling he was wrapped in; exposing his neck and chest. The sun’s rays glimmered off the necklace his namesake had once worn.

Brienne had immediately had a small chain fashioned to hold the pendant until little Pod was older enough to use the original chain worn by Podrick. Brienne refused to take the chain off unless the babe was put down to sleep. It was the one thing Jaime would never fight her on despite how silly their two moon’s old babe looked wearing the pendant of a man full grown.

As the party approached, Jaime felt a smile tug at his lips. The carriage stopped and immediately little Benjamin hopped out as Sansa called out after him. As she exited the carriage, Sansa held young Robb at her hip.

“Benjamin! By the Gods would you slow down!” As Sansa scolded the rambunctious boy with unruly curls, Tyrion chuckled and stepped out from the carriage.

“Brother! Goodsister! Look at you two!” Tyrion quickly made his way over to them and reached his arms out greedily. “I want to see my nephews!”

Jaime knelt to embrace Tyrion and held little Selwyn between them. “This is Selwyn. He is the reasonable of the two.”

Tyrion’s eyes lit up with excitement as he took the babe from Jaime’s arms. The little lord and heir to Tarth yawned and opened his eyes. Green eyes met Tyrion’s as the younger Lannister brother gasped. “By the Gods, you’ve made a clone.”

The twins were identical despite differing temperaments. Everyone said they were the spitting image of Jaime with their golden hair and skin, green eyes, and sharp jawline.

Tyrion looked between Jaime and Brienne with a wide smile on his face. Kneeling so he could see Pod, Brienne embraced Tyrion and held the babe out. Tyrion gasped and looked quickly between the babes.

“Are they!? Gods they’re identical!”

Sansa quickly made her way over with the two young boys in her arms. The slight swell of Sansa’s belly elicited a chuckle from Jaime.

When Tyrion concluded his two moons respite on Tarth after the Long Night, Tyrion made his way straight to Winterfell. With the flood of ravens flying back and forth between Winterfell and Tarth during Tyrion’s two moon stay, Jaime was hardly surprised. 

Tyrion had written Jaime three moons ago saying he and Sansa renewed their vows in the Godswood after spending _time_ together. “Gods you two didn’t waste any time.”

“Goodbrother. Its nice to see you as well. Here, take Benjamin will you? He is testing my sanity.”

Jaime held the young boy he had carried through the gates of Winterfell not even a year ago. “Hello Benjamin. Its good to see you again.” The young lad smiled and ran a hand along Jaime’s jaw.

“Uncle Jaime doesn’t have his furs on papa.” Tyrion chuckled as he cradled Selwyn in his arms. “Well Uncle Jaime wouldn’t want anything covering that pretty face of his. I on the other hand like to see that my face doesn’t succumb to frostbite in the frigid north.”

A teasing look was exchanged between Tyrion and Sansa as Robb began to fuss at her hip.

Moving to Brienne, Sansa wrapped her free arm around her former sworn sword. “Goodsister. Its good to see you well. The babes are adorable. I hope your husband’s looks are all they inherited and not his difficult personality.”

Jaime scoffed in mock offense. “I’ll have you know the staff here find me very charming. I get far more sweets than Brienne and they still cut my meat for me.”

Brienne snorted and tilted her head towards the door. “Lets get you all something to eat. My father will meet us shortly. He’s tending to some business in the village.”

As they made their way inside, Jaime fell behind to speak with his brother as the women walked towards the great hall.

“I can’t believe you got married without me there, _again_. You truly couldn’t wait?” Tyrion snorted at his side. “Well the first time neither Sansa nor I wanted to be there and you were still stomping through the Riverlands with your lady knight. And this time… well once we realized she was with child, we wanted to get married right away.”

Jaime chuckled and shook his head. “So basically, because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, I missed the second wedding?”

“Astute as ever big brother. Imagine if you did try to journey to us. You likely would have delivered these babes at an inn.” Tyrion smirked up at Jaime while continuing to cradle Selwyn in his arms.

Looking ahead at the women, Tyrion spoke quietly. “How is Brienne? She looks well.”

Jaime sighed. “Yes, she is now. Gave us quite the scare though. It was horrible, Tyrion. I thought I had lost her.” Memories of that day swirled in Jaime’s mind. The extraordinary amount of blood. Brienne’s sunken features and shallow breathing. The urgent voice of the maester.

Tyrion’s free hand came to Jaime’s arm and squeezed lightly. “She made it through. She has survived a dragon, dead men, and a fucking tower collapse. I think you two have many years left ahead of you.”

A smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. The thought of growing old on Tarth with Brienne felt incredible. We still have time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pod [insert ugly crying here]. Sorry all


	7. The Fatigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trust test of the long night and the fatigue with the twins.

Robert’s Rebellion was nearly a year long war. The War of the Five Kings was almost two years. Still, neither were as draining as fighting the dead. In a war against other living soldiers, there are battles. You meet on the field, fight and then move on to the next battle; often with different contingents leading the charge.

In the war with the dead, the fighting was nonstop. Two moons straight of never-ending opportunity to meet the Stranger himself. It was exhausting. Jaime had never felt a fatigue like it in his life.

 _Gods I preferred sitting chained in a post, covered in my own shit, in the middle of at Robb Stark’s camp, to this insanity_. It was the first thing they established in the war with the Night King’s army. _Shifts_.

The divided themselves into three shifts. Only Jon and Brienne were on a different shift system given they had dragons, or at least while they _had_ dragons. When Jon lost Rhaegal, he joined Jaime’s shift.

Jaime lead the first shift in command of the Stormland foot soldiers, the West, the wildlings, and the archers from the North.

Ser Jorah lead the second shift. He commanded the remaining Unsullied and Dothraki who had not fled across the sea, the North foot soldiers, the Vale, and the archers from the Stormlands.

The third shift was commanded by Arya. Her shift was the most disciplined and Jaime found the young wolf’s leadership style quite amusing… if not slightly frightening. She commanded fighters joining from Dorne, the Reach, the Riverlands, and the archers from the Iron Islands.

Jon and Brienne split their shifts into four parts of a day which meant Brienne spent half her day in the skies. Jaime hated it. He wanted to spend every minute that he wasn’t fighting with her. Hells, he wanted to spend every minute he was fighting with her too.

Some shifts, Jaime got his wish and he hated it. Honorable, stubborn, fierce Brienne felt guilt for spending most of the war on the back of a dragon. She would frequently sneak into Jaime’s contingent when his shift came.

Unexpectedly in battle, Jaime found his weak side strengthened. They fought beautifully together. It was as though they were one.

They instinctively knew when one was spinning to deliver a blow; the other would duck and strike at an incoming threat.

They could feel when the other was in trouble; immediately moving to face the threat together.

They could sense when the other was fading; the stronger of the two would act as a shield.

They were a team; better together. In absence of Brienne, Jaime was relieved to have Selwyn with him. To have all his men with him. It was comforting to have command of the East and the West alongside the wildlings and the North’s archers.

While the North’s archers were subpar to Tarth’s archers, Jaime appreciated their efforts all the same. Jaime found relief in securing command of the wildlings.

Tormund and his people had been fighting the dead for much longer than anyone south of the wall. They were fearless and familiar with the enemy. Their attitudes on the field also provided the necessary boost to morale.

At the end of every shift once the dead were pushed back or the next shift made their way out to replace them, they were tasked with collecting dragonglass weapons from the ground and rotting carcasses. This was particularly important for the archers who easily went through their supply in a shift.

It was like adding insult to injury. After a long, hard-fought shift, they had to tend the field and carry back weapons before Jon or Brienne would lay waste to anything left on the ground.

Parts of Jaime were sore that he never knew existed. It hurt to lift his arms by the time he returned to Winterfell. The hot springs soon became everyone’s favorite spot.

The hot water relaxed aching muscles on contact. The eerie silence of the Godswood allowed soldiers to clear their minds. Everyone knew not to talk upon entering the area surrounding the hot springs. It was a place to unwind, recover, and emotionally disconnect from the horrors witnessed on the field.

In general, it was an unspoken rule to not speak of the things they saw. The loss of comrades and loved ones. The injuries. The fear.

The fatigue was the worst for Jaime. Jaime didn’t fear death for himself. He only feared the death of those he loved and cared for.

He didn’t fear injury. He had already lost a hand and survived the trauma.

He didn’t fear what came at them. To Jaime, the wights were nothing more than obstacles between him and a long life with Brienne.

But the fatigue. Jaime would have given his left hand for a real bed; an uninterrupted sleep. On more than one occasion, Jaime found himself asleep sitting upright or having faceplanted into the makeshift dining table.

When Jaime had overlapping rest periods with Brienne, they held each other on their bedrolls. Brienne would massage Jaime’s sore spots and rub soothing circles on his neck to help Jaime find sleep. They found rest in one another’s arms and spent the moments before leaving their bedroll, simply staring into one another’s eyes.

All the rooms at Winterfell were being used for the gravely injured or the women, elderly, crippled, and children. Most rooms packed to capacity. The soldiers, even King Jon, slept on bedrolls within the castle walls.

Before Selwyn was severely injured in battle, Jaime often awoke to the older lord’s long arms wrapped securely around him; preventing Jaime from faceplanting into whatever object he fell asleep near.

When Selwyn and Brienne were sidelined from battle, Jaime nearly succumbed to the emotional fatigue on top of the physical. He needed his family to keep him sane as much as he needed their steady presence beside him in battle.

Brienne and Jaime stopped saying goodbye when they went into their shifts. It felt too final. Jaime fell into the habit of making a jape. He would tell half the jape before the battle and the punchline after. It gave them both something to look forward to even though Brienne thought the japes horrible.

Before their shift in battle, “What do you call someone who follows you around incessantly north of the wall?” After their shift in battle, “A White Stalker”

Before their shift in battle, “What does the Night King require of his army?” After their shift in battle, “Dead-ication”

Before their shift in battle, “How big are ice spiders?” After their shift in battle, “It Varys”

Before their shift in battle, “If Jon falls and I’m named king, what would my first task be?” After their shift in battle, “To find a hand”

And on, and on it went. Brienne rolled her eyes and groaned, but she loved it.

11 moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne married. 7 moons since the living found rest.

The twins were three moons old and the fatigue in Jaime’s body was akin to the fatigue of the long night. And quite literally, Jaime’s nights oft late had become long indeed.

Neither Brienne nor Jaime cared for septas. Brienne’s had been abusive towards her and Jaime’s had been negligent. Together, they were determined to care for the twins on their own.

Brienne tried her best to nurse the twins, but she needed the help of a wet nurse given the babe’s enormous appetites. When they would put the babes in their cots, they would wake up almost immediately; begging to be held. Pod was the worst offender where it came to clinginess.

Jaime and Brienne took shifts walking him up and down the castle hallway to keep him calm. When one was awake keeping Pod calm, the other slept. It was pure survival mode. During the day, their duty to Tarth kept them occupied when the twins weren’t being tended to.

What started as a jape, likening the monotony of the long nights with the twins to the Long Night at Winterfell, Jaime took to telling his horrible japes. When one of the twins inevitably woke up screaming for attention, Jaime would place a hand on Brienne’s shoulder and let her know that he would take that shift.

He left her with half the jape.

Before his shift with the babe, “What do maesters do in their rooms at night?” After his shift with the babe, “Maester bate”

Before his shift with the babe, “Where did the Hound go after you bit off his ear?” After his shift with the babe, “The Earie”

And on, and on it went. Brienne again rolled her eyes and groaned, but Jaime heard her chuckling as he carried the little one into the hallway for a nightly walk.

Selwyn seemed amused by their obstinate refusal to seek help. He japed that they were starting to look like wights themselves.

Since returning to Tarth, Jaime and Selwyn had taken to having a glass of whiskey together in his study. They told Brienne they were tending to _very important_ matters concerning Tarth; things Selwyn wanted Jaime to take on some day. It was truly a cover to have some time together.

Selwyn liked to muse it was their place. The place he first conversed with the son he chose, not the son he sired. They spent the nights talking about all manner of things. Nothing they shared left the room. It was just the two of them.

As Jaime and Selwyn sat in the study having their nightly whiskey, it was Selwyn’s loud laughter that shook Jaime from nearly falling sleep. His head had been falling forward, in and out of consciousness as Selwyn rambled on about some matter at the docks.

“Gods, I’m tired just looking at you.” Selwyn moved from his seat and Jaime tried to shake the fatigue from his head. He was slouched in the chair before the fire.

From behind his seat, Jaime could hear Selwyn chuckling and muttering to himself. Before Jaime could turn to see what Selwyn was up to, his goodfather was at his side and yanking him up by the arm. “Come on son. Over here.”

Selwyn pulled Jaime to the chaise lounge in the corner of the room. He guided Jaime down and covered him with a blanket. Snuffing out some of the candles in the room to dim the lighting, Selwyn walked back over and bent down. Jaime could already feel himself halfway to sleep.

“Rest for a bit while I get some work done. I’ll wake you when we would normally retire. Brienne will be none the wiser.”

Jaime felt Selwyn’s hand brush through his hair before sleep soon took him. A moon later, they got a septa to help at night.


	8. The Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne, Jaime, and the twins head North to on the 1 year anniversary of the Night King's fall.

After the Night King fell, Jon ordered the last of the fallen burned _just in case_. The survivors collected all the dragonglass weapons _just in case_. Jon called for a moment of silence. I moment to remember everyone they lost.

Just as Selwyn led them in the Evenstar’s prayer before the final battle, he led them in the prayer again. It was eerily silent before he began. Soldiers crowded together and looked to the east; their hands joining the comrades at their sides. 

Then the living went back into the castle walls and slept. They slept without interruption and without fear of what awaited them when they awoke.

The nightmares didn’t stop, but the terror of living did. The next day the sun rose in the sky. It was the first time the sun rose since the dead made their way to Winterfell.

Jaime had been awake before the first visages of the sun broke through the sky. It had been one of his recurring nightmares that roused him. While he was tired enough that he could fall back to sleep, he didn’t want to.

Jaime wanted to hold Brienne close. Hold their babe under his palm as it grew safely in her womb. As he breathed in the scent of Brienne, he considered how much they had been through together.

He remembered the first time he saw Brienne as he was chained to a pole in the middle of Robb Stark’s camp. She looked down at him as everyone in Westeros did; disdain in her eyes.

Her eyes were the first thing he saw even in the moonlight, but he was the Kingslayer and she was nothing to him. _A great beast of a woman_. It seemed almost laughable now to think back on _. I was the beast_.

He remembered the start to their journey together as he needled her every step of the way, hoping she would make a mistake and he could flee. When he saw the opportunity on the bridge, he wanted to kill her. He intended to kill her. All to get back to Cersei. _Thank the Gods she is a better fighter than me. I could have killed the love of my life._

Her strength was the first thing he felt when their swords came together, but he was still the Kingslayer and she was still nothing to him. _How did I not know then? When our swords came together our hearts were forever bound._

He remembered when Bolton’s men captured them. They took her armor and weapons; cast them aside as though they were nothing. It was the first time Jaime saw her as a person. Not just a nameless soldier pulling him along on a leash.

Her subtle curves were the first thing he noticed then. From the fight on the bridge, her body was slick with sweat and her clothing clung to her body. The men noticed it too. It was the first time Jaime felt he had to protect her. _I knew what they would do to her. I had to stop them. ‘Sapphires’._

He remembered when she cared for his fevered body. Wiped the piss, shit, and vomit from him as their captors pushed them along to Harrenhal. He hated her and appreciated her at the same time. He was taught not to be weak in front of others, but he was little more than a helpless babe.

Her gentle touch was the first thing he felt as his body convulsed in pain. It shocked him. A woman the size of her and with her strength had no business being so gentle. It was strange and not what Jaime knew a woman could be. _Soft and hard. The maiden and the warrior._

He remembered when he left her behind; the acceptance of death in her eyes. She didn’t cry and whimper. She didn’t beg and plead. She accepted it. She asked only that he fulfill his oath. _How could she trust me, an oathbreaker, to keep my word?_ She believed him in the bathes. He knew it then.

His name from her lips was the last thing he heard. _Goodbye Ser Jaime_.

He remembered everything else about their journey together. The bear pit. The armor. The sword. The squire. The tent.

He remembered everything about bringing the West to the East. Selwyn on Tarth. Brienne alive at Winterfell. Fire and blood. More wildfire. Choosing Brienne. Always Brienne.

Brienne stirred slightly in his arms and rolled to face him. In sleep, her hand came up to his face on instinct. “Jaime.” _Jaime. Just Jaime_.

“I’m here.” Jaime pulled her closer and kissed her forehead as she sighed into his neck.

“I dreamed we won.”

Jaime smiled against her temple. “We did.”

Brienne’s eyes fluttered open; her lashes brushing against his chin. “It was real. They’re gone.”

“Yes. That or we’re all dead and you’ve saved me from an eternity in the seven hells. The sun is coming up.”

Jaime felt Brienne pull back slowly and take in her surroundings. Sitting upright, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked down at him; a smile tugging at her lips. “The sun.”

Staring at her, Jaime laughed inwardly as he considered his delight at the sun coming up, but his preference for the star before him.

“I want to go see it.” Brienne stood and looked down at him. Grabbing their blankets, Jaime followed her up the battlements. The view was stunning as the early morning rays crested over the mountains to the east.

Jaime wrapped his arms around her waist; throwing the blankets around them in the process. “You didn’t get to use your bow or morningstar this time. Quite unfortunate. We could have been done with Long Night over a moon ago.”

Brienne snorted as Jaime’s left hand moved to the front of her body and rubbed her slowly swelling belly. “Well mayhap you could have told your japes to the dead. That would have sent them back north of the wall near two moons ago.”

Jaime chuckled as his left arm returned around her waist and pulled her closer; their cheeks pressed together as they looked out at the sunrise.

“I want to go home now. I prefer the sunrise from our bed.”

At Jaime’s words, Brienne moaned in longing. “Our bed. Oh Gods. Can you imagine it?”

Jaime smiled as their cheeks stayed pressed together. “I have no intention of getting out of our bed for days once we are home. Just the three of us.”

Turning to meet Brienne’s eyes, Jaime placed his hand on her cheek before placing a soft, passionate kiss to her lips.

* * *

16 moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne married. 12 moons since the Night King fell.

Jaime trailed kisses down Brienne’s neck as his cock softened inside her. It was their second coupling of the morning since both roused early on account of the brisk northern air infiltrating their bedroom. They had let the fire die in the middle of the night and to Jaime, this was the best way to warm up.

Brienne chuckled under his kisses as he made his way down her chest to her belly. “Good morning little one. Please don’t make momma sick today.”

They had just found out that Brienne was pregnant again. Apparently getting a septa for nighttime support helped them find more than sleep. It was still early on; roughly two moons into the pregnancy.

Unlike her first pregnancy, this babe made his or her presence known early. For the last fortnight, Brienne struggled to keep food down.

“We should getup before the twins come looking for us.” Brienne’s words were laced with dread. At eight moons old, the twins were a handful. They were crawling all over the place and refused to be stationary on anyone’s lap.

They had arrive at Winterfell late last night. To commemorate the one-year anniversary of the Night King’s fall, Jon called the kingdoms together for a memorial and a feast.

The twins had spent the night in Genna’s assigned room. She was beyond excited to have little ones around and since they babes were sleeping well through the night, Genna insisted on letting them stay with her. She affectionately taken to calling them ‘East’ and ‘West’.

Brienne and Jaime changed for the day and went to find Genna. When they discovered she wasn’t in her room, they made their way to the hall to break the fast; assuming Genna would be there.

They walked in to see Olenna, Selwyn, and Genna playing with the babes at the table. Brienne groaned at the sight. “Gods. They’ve given them sweets. We’ll never get them down to nap later.”

Jaime snorted and pulled her along. He observed Olenna’s face light up as she played with little Sel in her arms. “Leave it to two rambunctious babes to melt the Queen of Thorns’ heart.”

When the arrived at the table, Selwyn smiled brightly. “Morning children! I trust you slept well.”

Jaime smiled mischievously as he sat down. “Yes. We should send off the babes to Aunt Genna regularly.”

Genna snorted and bounced Pod on her lap as the babe shoved more crumb cake into his mouth excitedly. “You send me the West’s heir anytime you like. His brother may come along and see how much the West has to offer.”

Jaime took appraisal of Pod’s outfit and chuckled. “I don’t recall giving you that outfit last night. It looks very Lannister. I wonder where it came from.”

With a satisfied smirk, Genna looked to Jaime. “This here boy is a lion! He looks smart in crimson. You looked like this once. Now you were that very sad blue all the time.” Selwyn guffawed at Jaime’s side as they appraised young Pod.

Olenna chirped up from across the table as she cooed at little Sel. “Send these little ones to High Garden. I’ll have them in proper colors. Our green and gold will go well with their eyes and hair.”

Jaime gave Brienne a wink as the older ladies and lord fawned over the babes. “We’ll send Pod to the Genna and Sel to foster at High Garden. What will we do with all our free time?”

Selwyn chuckled. “All your free time for the next seven moons. Ha! Good luck with that.”

Brienne’s eyes narrowed at her father as Genna and Olenna turned to her in shock. “Gods, girl. Another?” Genna’s tone was practically a whisper.

Selwyn chuckled as Jaime’s chest swelled with pride and accomplishment. With a clap to Jaime’s back, Selwyn turned to Genna. “Come now. We have many nurseries to fill on Tarth. They seem to enjoy making them. Gods I’ve been trying to get my own room relocated oft late.”

From across the table, Jaime watched as Brienne’s face flushed a deep crimson. He covered his mouth to hide the laughter, knowing he would surely pay for it later.

Genna scoffed and gave Jaime a reprimanding look. “Brienne is barely recovered from the twins, boy! Try to keep it in your pants the next time.”

Olenna snorted and rolled her eyes. “If he knew how to do that, we all would have been spared a lot of trouble quite some time ago.”

Brienne buried her head in her hands before taking a deep breath and plastering a polite smile to her face. “Well I thank you both for watching them.” Jaime groaned inwardly at the less than subtle cue to begin parenting again. As they outstretched their arms, the two older women quickly moved the babes out of reach.

Olenna protested quickly. “No! Go away! The both of you. These two quite like us. We might keep them.”

The babes squealed at the movement and attention. Jaime looked to Brienne with excitement in his eyes and saw the same relief in hers. _It would be lovely to have a break for a while longer_.

“Jaime, lets go see how the new parents are holding up.” Jaime shoved some more crumb cake in his mouth as Brienne spoke.

“Jaime Lannister! Be polite and take reasonable bites.” Genna rolled her eyes before looking back to Pod and fussing over him.

Shoving some more crumb cake into his face to needle Genna, Jaime flashed a grin with his mouth stuffed to capacity. Selwyn chuckled and clapped Jaime’s shoulder. Moving from his seat, Jaime leaned down to place a messy kiss to Genna’s cheek before following Brienne to find Sansa and Tyrion.

“Oh, get away with you! Rude boy.” Genna swatted Jaime’s side as he spluttered cake all over as he laughed. “Your father is disgusting Podrick Lannister.”

Making their way down the hallway towards his brother’s room, they heard a screaming babe up ahead on the right.

Brienne chuckled at his side. “Well in case we forgot where their room was, the babe is letting us know.”

They reached Tyrion’s and Sansa’s bedroom and heard the chaos inside. “You are certain you want to enjoy the break from the twins with _this_.” Jaime inclined his head towards the door and Brienne sighed.

“Come now. You love it.” Brienne knocked and heard footsteps approach. A frazzled looking Tyrion opened the door and nearly cried with relief.

“Thank the gods! Ned has been up screaming all night. Robb has more teeth coming through and has joined the babe in misery all night. And Benjamin is well…. Benjamin.”

Jaime chuckled as they entered. Benjamin went running to Jaime who scooped him up eagerly. “Uncle Jaime! Aunt Brienne! Do you want to see my new sword!?”

Sansa sat in a chair at the corner of the room looking like she had spent the night fighting off wights. “Gods. Please. He has been begging to spar with you both since he heard you arrived last night.”

Jaime chuckled and looked to Benjamin. “How about a spar after the ceremony this morning? I could use a good workout. Your aunt here has been busy vomiting all over the place.”

Benjamin’s face curled in disgust. “Oh gross! Aunt Brienne, did you eat too many sweets? Momma says if you eat too many sweets, you’ll get a belly ache.”

Brienne chuckled. “Well that is very true. You should listen to your mother about that. I think I’ve felt sick from being stuck on a long journey with your uncle and his horrible japes. We’ll have to kill him off sparring later. That will make me feel better.”

Benjamin chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Aunt Brienne, do you want to see my wooden dragon? Daddy made it look like your real dragon!” Brienne took Benjamin from Jaime and nodded eagerly. “Yes, will you show me?”

Benjamin directed Brienne out of the room, leaving Jaime with Robb, Ned, Tyrion, and Sansa. The baby kept crying in Sansa’s arms as she tried to rock the baby to sleep.

“Let me see my nephew. He sounds like his namesake always did whenever he caught sight of me.” Sansa glared at Jaime, but a smile tugged at her lips.

Jaime leaned down and took Ned, who stopped crying almost immediately. Sansa and Tyrion looked to one another in shock. Sansa whispered to them. “What’s happening? Has Ned stopped or fainted in fear?”

Tyrion moved closer, his eyes wide as he watched Ned lock eyes with Jaime. “Gods. I think… I think Ned likes him.”

Jaime snorted. “It only took some decades, but we sorted it out.”

Sansa stood slowly. “Oh Gods. I love you. Don’t ever move or leave. Just stay like that for the next year or so. I’ll get you whatever you need. Whatever you like.”

With a huff of laughter, Jaime met Sansa’s imploring eyes. “I take it he isn’t sleeping well at night?”

She shook her head adamantly. “No! Gods he never stops.” Tyrion scooped up Robb who was eager to be held. The young boy was just learning to walk and had taken quite a few falls from the looks of it.

“So, when does Jon want everyone assembled for the memorial?” Jaime looked between Tyrion and Sansa as he asked the question.

Speaking to Jaime, Tyrion kept this voice low as Ned started to fall asleep. “Late morning. He had a statue erected at the site where you killed the Night King. It’s quite spectacular really. He had it engraved with the various kingdoms and contingents who fought in the Long Night.”

“Oh, I do hope it’s a statue of me standing in victory, looking dashing as ever.” Jaime japed as Sansa rolled her eyes and snorted. “It is meant to be a peaceful sight, not give future generations a fright.”

Jaime feigned offense and moved to hand Ned back to Sansa. She moved back as though she had been burned. “No, no! I merely meant we couldn’t find a way to capture your eternal beauty in stone.”

With a satisfied hum, Jaime looked back at little Ned and pulled the sleeping babe against his chest. “Yes, well it’s for the best. I wouldn’t want birds shitting on my image as they flew by.”

Tyrion smiled at Sansa and teased. “I told you there was merit in having the statue of him.”

Sansa shushed Tyrion and swatted his arm. “Shut up. He got Ned asleep. He is my new favorite Lannister.”

Jaime cast a winning smile at Tyrion who feigned hurt. Turning to meet Jaime’s eyes, Tyrion winked. “Well lets go break out fast. I want my full belly when Jon starts his brooding speech.”


	9. The Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast after the Long Night and the feast to celebrate the twins' 5th nameday. Selwyn POV to close this out.

The battle was won, and the living piled into the great hall to feast. After spending the first day recovering from death, Sansa was determined to celebrate life.

Selwyn walked into the great hall and found the table where the commanders from the east and west sat. Brienne and Jaime were crammed together, lost in each other. Duncan was talking animatedly with three commanders from the West another Tarth commander.

Warmth flooded Selwyn’s chest as he took in the sight of his children; alive and well. Brienne was near four moons pregnant with child. Jaime defeated death itself.

Selwyn took the open seat next to Jaime whose left arm was draped around Brienne. Duncan was next to Brienne and the rest of the commanders across the table from them.

“Our Evenstar!” Duncan smiled at Selwyn and raised his cup in toast to the older lord. Selwyn gave a warm nod and raised the cup in his hand in reciprocation.

Mirth filled the hall as food was served and wine flowed freely. Their table was the closest to the head table that held Jon, Sansa, Arya, Tyrion, and the rest of the small council members. Soon, Jon rose from his seat and prepare to toast.

Selwyn groaned inwardly. _Gods. Let this speech be more uplifting than those he usually gives_. 

“Friends! Yesterday we mourned out loved ones. Tonight, we celebrate the living! We defeated death itself. It was a long, hard battle, but we worked together and pulled through. Lets remember this moment and not allow kingdoms and houses to come between us again!”

At the words, everyone raised a wine glass to cheer. When the volume died back down, Jon looked to Jaime and smiled. “And to our Kingslayer! Yet again, saving Westeros from death.”

The hall toasted again rowdily, and Selwyn again felt his chest well with pride. He clapped Jaime’s shoulders and watched as Jaime’s ears flamed red at the attention and praise from everyone gathered in the hall.

The men from Tarth and the West were particularly loud at the announcement and pounded the table eagerly. Duncan cried out, “There’s another deed for the white book!”

Arya laughed and shouted from the head table, “I’ve already fixed the other shit! I only have so much room let on his page!”

As tables returned to their private conversations and celebration, Selwyn looked at Jaime and Brienne. The relief was palpable. He had his baby girl and his chosen son. Their family intact and they would go home to Tarth to truly live.

Jaime soon stood to speak with Tyrion and Selwyn took the opportunity slide down the bench to sit beside his daughter. “You’re quiet!”

Brienne smirked and rolled her eyes. “I’m the only sober one. All of you will be feeling it in the morning.”

With a huff of laughter, Selwyn threw his left around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace. “The good news is we’ll be alive to feel like death. Gods, I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am. I have little desire to follow you children into any more battles after this though. I’m too old!”

Brienne snorted and met her father’s eyes. Sapphires meeting sapphires. “I have no desire to go into battle anytime soon. I think I’ve had my fill of it for quite some time.”

Selwyn guffawed and pulled her even tighter. “Good! I want more grandbabes than the one you have in there now.” With Brienne pulled tight to his chest, Selwyn felt her laughing against him.

Loosening his grip on Brienne so that he could meet her eyes, he spoke at a volume for only her to hear. “Your mother would be so proud of you. You have her tenacity. Did I ever tell you that her favorite weapon was the morningstar?”

He watched as Brienne’s eye went wide at his words. Selwyn already knew the answer to his question. He never spoke of Alysanne. It hurt too much. But he still had Brienne and to deny her information of her mother would be to deny Brienne a part of herself.

With a sad smile, Selwyn shook his head. “I imagine not. I never cared for the weapon, but she was a natural with it. Truly a sight to behold; like you. That is where you get the talent from. I always preferred the sword.”

Selwyn sighed and looked off to the side in contemplation. He turned back to Brienne and saw she was looking at him with rapt interest. “I’m sorry that I don’t talk about her much. It always hurt, but… it’s important. For you. And for the babe. That little one should know the entire family. Not just the living, but the dead.”

Brienne nodded; a slight sheen in her eyes. “I would like that.” Selwyn smiled and pulled her close again. “You love like her too. Quietly, but fiercely. She always japed at me for wearing my heart on my sleeve. For loving loudly. I think your boy is like me in that regard.”

They both shared a laugh as they knew it to be true. Saying that Jaime loved loudly was an understatement. Everything he did was loud and filled with loving intention; even if misplaced at times.

Soon, Jaime came back to the table and scoffed at his stolen seat. He plopped down next to Selwyn and looked around to see Brienne.

Selwyn shook his head and smiled. _Thank the Gods for this boy. He loves my Brienne as she should be loved. Unconditionally and with every part of his soul_. With his long wingspan, Selwyn pulled them both close to his chest and chuckled at their gasps for air. “My children! Ha! We’re going home as a complete family.”

68 moons had passed since the day Jaime and Brienne wed. 64 moons since the living beat death.

Selwyn beamed as he entered the twins’ room at Casterly Rock. “Good morning children! Happy nameday!” The two young lions came running to him; always bundles of excited energy. “Grandpapa! Grandpapa! Look. Momma and Papa gave us new swords!”

 _Oh, by the seven. This what I get for having two knights as children_. “Of course, they did. So, tell me, are you ready for your big day, Pod?”

They had arrived at Casterly Rock nearly a fortnight ago to celebrate their fifth nameday. It was a Lannister tradition to feast and formally present their next heir on the child’s fifth nameday. Selwyn looked at the twins with their golden locks and bright green eyes. The spitting image of Jaime.

Pod’s face flushed red at the thought of the oncoming attention from the West. He was the shy one of the twins. Since he was a babe, Pod had been very attached to his mother. Jaime and Brienne mused that the young lad’s reliance on Brienne was skin to Podrick. Brienne found it endearing. Selwyn imagined it helped her mourn the lad.

Like Brienne, Pod was also shy and hated the spotlight. He preferred to let his big brother do the talking. Sel was certainly a people person and loved to talk.

“Come on Pod! You’ll be alright. I’ll be right there with you.” Sel put a comforting arm around his twin’s shoulder. Brienne always laughed at how similar Sel was to Selwyn. Both very warm and affection. An anchor at sea for those feeling adrift in an comfortable in situations.

Pod smiled and nodded at his brother, but quickly changed subjects. “Grandpapa, Aunt Genna is making me wear this awful outfit again.”

Pod walked back to the bed and grabbed the _very_ Lannister jerkin. “Well young Pod, your Aunt Genna is just excited to show you off. Heir to Casterly Rock! A very important house indeed.”

Sel chuckled and teased his brother. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget West, the sun rises on my pretty face first.” Pod furrowed his brows and huffed. “Don’t forget East, the sun lingers on my pretty face the longest.”

Selwyn chuckled at the boys teasing one another. _They certainly have their father’s humor_. The pitter patter of little feet came running down the hallway with Genna’s scream echoing behind. “Come back here girl! You’re not ready yet!”

Three-year-old Joanna burst through the door, laughing and jumping onto one of the beds. She was the spitfire of the Lannister brood. _She is all Jaime. A ball of mischief and japes_. Selwyn chuckled at the sight of a winded Genna clinging to the doorframe to catch her breath.

“Gods girl! Get back here! You have to wear a dress today. No breeches!”

Joanna laughed and hid behind the twins after rolling off the bed. “Momma is wearing breeches!”

Genna scoffed. “Your mother is of the East. They’re weird over there!” The twins and Selwyn chuckled as Joanna darted around the room with her wooden sword in hand; felling invisible assailants.

The young girl bounded over to Selwyn. “Grandpapa, I’m of the East. I want to wear blue and breeches.”

Selwyn chuckled and winked at Genna who was flabbergasted. “Come now child. Give your poor Aunt Genna her moment. Lets wear this pretty, crimson dress she brought for you. It’s a big day for the West. You’re of the east AND the west child.”

Joanna sulked over and took the dress; extending her small hand out to Genna who pulled her back to her bedroom. Looking at Joanna reminded Selwyn so much of Brienne. She had fair skin and bright blue eyes. Her hair was golden and curly, but that was her only physical Lannister trait.

Selwyn turned back to the boys as they finished putting on their jerkins. Sel in the blue and silver of Tarth. Pod in the gold and crimson of the Rock. With a wide smile, Selwyn appraised his grandsons as his chest swelled with pride. The necklace of Pod’s namesake hung proudly around his neck.

“Where are those parents of yours? Have you seen them this morning?”

Pod’s face scrunched in disgust. “I tried to find Momma this morning, but Papa was hugging her in bed again. The hugs they don’t let us join them in.”

Selwyn bit his lip hard to keep the laughter from bursting through. _Gods at this rate, I’ll need another wing at Evenfall_.

“Well I imagine your little sister is up now, so they’re likely ready to go. Lets find them.” Selwyn guided the boys out of their room and down the hall to Jaime’s and Brienne’s room. _Lets hope they’re not having one of **those** mornings_.

Selwyn had spent many a morning on Tarth enjoying the grandchildren in the playroom as Jaime and Brienne ‘hugged’.

Knocking on the door, Selwyn heard footsteps approach. The door swung open to reveal Jaime dressed in full Lannister attire. _The Golden Lion is back at the Rock_. He was freshly shaven, and his hair cut short as usual. The golden tan he maintained on Tarth looked healthy against his crimson and gold.

“Morning son! Your oldest cubs are ready. Little Joanna is running your aunt through the seven hells about the dress.” Jaime chuckled and dropped to his knee to pull the boys into a big hug. “How are my five-year olds?”

The boys crushed into Jaime’s arms, laughing as their father assaulted them with kisses. Selwyn looked down on the three and his heart filled with love. If anyone had told him six years prior that Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, would come into his life and steal away with such a massive piece of his heart, he would have guffawed and brought them to a maester.

Now, thanks to his goodson, he had four wonderful grandbabes to love on and his daughter was in his life. Brienne walked into the room from the nursery next door, one-year-old Catelyn in her arms. Of the Lannister children, little Cat was the perfect mix of both parents.

Cat had Brienne’s light blonde hair and shining blue eyes. She had her father’s complexion and facial features. She was a calm child; never fussed unless something was truly off. She had a limited vocabulary, but she knew what she wanted and how to express it.

Selwyn took little Cat from Brienne’s arms and kissed her good morning. Taking appraisal of his daughter, Selwyn’s face betrayed the shock he felt. “By the Gods. You’re in a dress!”

Brienne put up a halting hand. Irritation writ across her face. “Genna.” Jaime stood to see his wife and a wide smile stretched across his face. “Wow. We should come to the Rock more often.”

Pod groaned and piped up. “You’re not going to _hug_ again, are you?” Selwyn chuckled as Brienne’s face flushed a deep red. It did not go unnoticed to Selwyn the way Jaime’s eyes lingered on Brienne’s body before locking eyes with her.

 _At least Genna put her in Tarth colors._ The group made their way downstairs to the great hall to break their fast. The other Lannister family was already there. Benjamin was handing off the newest addition to their pride, two-year-old Jaime.

Upon seeing the twins walk in, five-year-old Robb and four-year-old Ned ran to their cousins and wished them a happy nameday. The boys took off to eat a quick breakfast before heading to the yard to spar. Of course, Genna lambasted the children about not sullying their handsome clothes.

Sansa and Brienne sat together and bounced their youngest on their laps. As usual Joanna clung to Jaime and Selwyn mused at how cute she looked in her little crimson and gold dress. “Momma! Did Aunt Genna make you wear that dress too?”

Brienne smiles teasingly at Genna before turning back to Joanna. “Yes. She scares even the fiercest of knights.” Joanna giggled and turned to Jaime. “Papa, can we spar later?”

With a wide smile, Jaime nodded and whispered to her. “Yes, but only after the ceremony or Aunt Genna will beat me up.”

“I heard that boy!” Genna barked from across the room. Tyrion and Jaime exchanged a look before the younger Lannister brother spoke across the table. “Gods, she’s still frightening as ever.”

The broke into laughter before Genna marched over and tugged at Tyrin’s ear. “Enough now or no lemon cakes for you.”

Selwyn snorted as the brothers shut up quickly at the threat. Joanna hopped off Jaime’s lap to go play with the boys and Selwyn looked out windows to watch them play in the yard with their training swords.

“First little Ned adored me, now look at how well little Jaime and little Catelyn get along over there. I knew deep down your parents truly loved me.” Sansa rolled her eyes and said a silent prayer to the seven as Tyrion chuckled while eating his crumb cake.

Shaking her head, the smile Sansa had been suppressing broke through. “If my mother could only see us now. I highly doubt she imagined all of this when she sent you two off together in the Riverlands near a decade ago.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Nor I. I almost murdered him several times over along the way.”

Feigning offense, Jaime looked to Brienne and scoffed. “I knew from the moment I saw you, that this is where we would end up.”

Selwyn crossed his arm and leaned back in his chair; watching as Brienne guffawed and shot Jaime and incredulous look. “Are you mad? You asked if I was a woman.” Jaime’s shoulders shook with laughter as Brienne laid into him. “You asked if I had known many men… or women… or horses.”

Sansa gasped at that and glared at Jaime. “You did not!” Jaime sat back and scratched at his jaw. “I remember it different. I was more wanting to know about my competition for your hand.”

Had it been years ago, Selwyn would have been fuming. Now, he could only sit back and laugh at his daughter and Jaime. This was what they did. Brienne played at disgust with him. Jaime intentionally misremembered their earliest days together. Then they _hugged_ a lot later. Thank the Gods I was smart enough to ask Genna for a room on the opposite end of the castle.

Brienne would not be deterred. “You asked if I wished one of the boys on Tarth could overpower me. Fling me down. Tear off my clothes. You said you bet none of them were strong enough.”

Jaime raised his brows and gave a lascivious stare. “I seem to recall following that up with ‘but I’m strong enough’. See, I was flirting with you. You remember it all wrong. It was a lovely courtship. Very romantic.” 

“Not interested.” At Brienne’s words, the two of them broke into laughter and Selwyn could only roll his eyes. He looked to Tyrion and Sansa who were also desperately trying to ignore them by this point. “I hope you’re on my side of the castle. Poor Pod was already traumatized this morning.”

The day passed quickly, and Pod did well at his presentation to the vassals. The West was thrilled to have the little Lords at the Rock; particularly Pod. Jaime, Brienne, and Genna agreed that they would start visiting twice a year for a month at a time. It was important for Pod to get to know the area he would rule later in life.

The feast was in full swing and Selwyn sat back in his chair, watching across the table as his daughter and Sansa played with the children. Jaime and Tyrion were standing in the corner with some of the Lannister men; laughing and talking animatedly.

Genna had just left Selwyn’s side to show off Pod to some of the bannermen. Looking towards the back of the room, Selwyn chuckled as little Ned stood on a chair to try and remove one of the swords adorning the wall. Tyrion took off into a sprint as Jaime laughed at the scene from the corner.

Soon Jaime came back to the table and sat beside Selwyn. They talked for some time as the feast slowly died down. Sansa, Tyrion, and Brienne had taken the younger children off to bed; leaving Jaime and Selwyn to keep an eye on the older boys.

Selwyn patted Jaime on the back as he leaned back in his chair. It wasn’t the first time that Selwyn felt overwhelmed with love for his growing family. He reflected on the day Jaime’s fleet came to Tarth to save them from Cersei. When he took them north to Brienne. When he saved her from death for what apparently was _not_ the first time. When he knighted her. When he wed her.

Pulling Jaime against his chest with his right arm, Selwyn ruffled Jaime’s hair with this left hand. “I’m partial to the East, but I must say, one of the greatest gifts of my life came from the West. I love you son.”


End file.
